The Awesomely Awesome Adventures of Prussia!
by Mimizuku9
Summary: Prussia is ecstatic to find a new friend to wreak havoc with. However, he gets a little more than what he bargained for…
1. Let's call you Fritz!

'Are you a dog person or cat person, Prussia?' Austria asked as he cut a thin slice out of his filet, the diamond encrusted knife moving with taut preciseness.

'Does it matter?' Prussia scoffed, his mouth still full from the previous bite of… something. Whatever it was, it had been stolen off of Hungary's plate, and therefore tasted infinitely better. The view of a ticked off brunette complemented the flavor rather well, too.

'I'm just trying to make pleasant dinner conversation, Prussia.'

He ignored Austria and continued to stuff his mouth with the overpriced mashed potato that was left on his plate, making shameless eating noises as he did so. Having gotten bored of the yellow mush, he hovered his fork over Hungary's plate as he looked for the next delicious thing to eat.

Hungary smacked his hand away. 'Prussia, please! Can't you just behave for once!' She glared at him with emerald green eyes.

Well, no. Not quite emerald, Prussia thought. More like… olive green? Mossy green? That didn't sound right either. Olives and moss were dull and Hungary's eyes were anything but that.

Forest green?

 _No._

Clover green?

 _Nope._

Jade green?

 _Definitely not._

How about _basil_ green?

'Prussia!' Hungary smacked him on the back of the head, interrupting his train of thought abruptly.

'Hey!' He rubbed the back of his head. That woman hit a lot harder than you'd expect.

'Well, don't you?' She looked at him expectantly with… basil green eyes. Although he still felt like basil was such an underwhelming way to describe them.

'Don't I what?'

He must have missed something pretty important, because Austria looked quite disappointed, and Hungary's hand seemed to itch for a frying pan to hit him with right now.

'What Hungary's been saying, Prussia,' Austria set down his glittering knife and fork. 'is that we've been fighting for too long, and that maybe… it's time we make peace with each other.'

'Ha!' Prussia burst out an obnoxiously loud cackle, earning glances from people on the nearby tables. Such a boring place this was. And of course, it was also Austria's favorite restaurant. 'Me, not fight? I am the almighty and awesome Prussia! I never surrender to likes of you stupid aristocrats!'

'We're not asking you to surrender, _hülye!_ We're asking you to be a decent human being!' Hungary says, her hands in her lap. Prussia could only assume she was restraining the need to punch him.

'All you do is brag and shout and cause trouble wherever you go!' She continued, her face reddening. 'You're a selfish child and it seems like you'll never grow up either!'

'Do I look like I care?' Prussia says, still grinning idiotically. 'You don't like me, fine! You two losers can make your peace without me!'

 _I was always better off alone anyway._

He pushed his chair away abruptly and left.

'Prussia, the door's the other way.' Austria pointed out dryly.

'I know where I'm going!' _Pretentious bastard._

Prussia continued to walk towards what was very clearly _not_ the exit, but it was nevertheless a door. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to go here, but he was Prussia and Prussia did not give two _scheißt_ about what doors are to be used. He opened the door and stepped out into an alley.

'So this was an exit, after all.' He closed the door behind him.

' _Halo_ ~'

'Aagh!' Prussia jumped up, startled by the sight of a peculiar looking blonde, who had apparently been standing behind the door.

'Poland?' Prussia brushed himself off, pretending as if he had not yelped in such a totally not awesome manner. He eyed the blonde suspiciously. 'Er…that's a nice dress you're wearing. You've finally decided to come out the closet?'

'Tch!' Poland's face twisted in annoyance. 'No! I just like wearing it! _Masz problem_?'

'No, not at all!' He grinned as his eyes lowered to the hem of the knee length summer dress the blonde was wearing rather confidently. 'Not at all…'

'Hey! Eyes up here, pervert! I didn't come here for you to, like, ogle at me!'

'Then what did you come here for?'

'Well… Let's just say I've got an old score to settle.' Poland chuckled, although his tone of voice was quite serious. 'Come on out, guys!'

No one came. Now it was Prussia's turn to laugh. 'Guess your little army deserted you! Ha! What a loser!'

'This isn't funny, you guys!' Poland shouted. 'Latvia! Lithuania, you coward! I swear I'll get back at you for this if you don't get here _now!_ '

After an awkward moment's silence, the two other nations _did_ appear, although somewhat hesitantly.

'Oh… hey Prussia.' Lithuania says, shaking slightly. 'I…um. I'm sorry for this. You see, Poland insisted we help him even though I told him it wasn't really a good idea but he said if we didn't help he'd throw himself off a cliff and we believed him so we-'

'Liet! _Sza!_ ' Poland snapped. He turned to Prussia. 'Now, if you'll just come along with us, I can assure you there will be no trouble for you.'

Prussia scoffed. 'Is this your sorry attempt at a kidnapping? 'Cuz you losers sure as hell ain't capturing the almighty Prussia!' He burst out laughing maniacally.

Poland took a step closer. 'Come with us, or else.'

'Or else what?'

Poland grinned as he pulled out a walkie-talkie. He switched it on. 'Estonia, give us your status.'

'I'm flying above the restaurant right now. Poland, a-are you sure you want me to do this?' A voice from the walkie-talkie spoke. 'This is a _really_ bad idea!'

'Only if Prussia refuses to cooperate.'

'Wait, do what? What is this?' Prussia looked at Lithuania in hopes of an answer. Nothing. The brunette looked scared shitless.

'Our friend Estonia is piloting a military aircraft carrying a B61 nuclear bomb,' Poland answered instead. 'And I'm afraid if you don't cooperate, your idiotic face will be blown to smithereens!'

'But Poland, it'll blow us up too!' Lithuania shrieked. 'Don't do this!'

'Nuclear bomb?!' _Mein Gott!_ ' Prussia took a step back. These bastards were crazy. Hand-to-hand combat he could do. Guns, sure thing. Tanks, even better. But weapons of mass destruction? That was an awesome power he had yet to handle. And certainly not one he was equipped to fight against, even with his mind-blowing awesomeness.

'Where did you even get a B61 bomb?' He took another step back.

Poland followed. 'I have my sources…'

'We stole it from Netherlands!' Lithuania yelped.

'Liet! What did I just tell you?! _Milczeć!'_ Poland glared at the brunette. 'We do things my way!'

Prussia continued to back away. Poland kept advancing regardless. At this point most people would surrender, give themselves up for the sake of preventing crazy Poles nuking the place. But there were two things to keep in mind.

Firstly, as much of a suicidal whack job Poland was, Estonia certainly did not have the balls to carry through with a nuclear attack. Like, please! Nuclear weapons were such an empty threat.

And secondly, he was freaking Prussia. Prussia did not surrender. He was no France or Italy. He was Preußen, and with Old Fritz himself as his witness he would not run away. So fight it was.

He threw off his black gloves, his hands tightening into fists. 'Come on at me, sucker!'

Latvia and Lithuania squirmed. Even Estonia made a fearful noise on the walkie-talkie. Poland though, simply picked up the pace.

'Then you've made your decision. Estonia, prepare to…' Poland trailed off, his eyes widening.

'Aagh!' Lithuania and Latvia screamed.

'Hehe… my awesome formidability is too much for you to bear, _ja_?' Prussia smirked, hands on his hips.

'Poland, we have to leave! Now!' Lithuania tugged on Poland's shoulder, Latvia having already made a run for it.

'W-W-What the hell _is_ that?!' Poland stuttered, eyes looking at something distant behind Prussia. Prussia did not bother to turn around. After all, what reason other than Prussia himself would the Pole have to react in such a way?

'My awesome manliness, that's what!' Prussia cackled, thoroughly enjoying the panicked way in which Lithuania and Poland scrambled away.

 _Old Fritz would be so proud of me right now._

Prussia stood there, still in his stance of power, simply drinking in the moment. This was great. This was _awesome._

Then, out of nowhere, a squeaky little yelp interrupted his momentary bliss. He turned around, finding no one there. Yet another yelp. He looked down.

He found a white Pomeranian sitting there, pink tongue sticking out and little eyes sparkling at him.

 _So cute…!_

'Ah! _Ein Zwergspitz!_ ' He knelt down to the dog. 'What's a cute little thing like you doing here?' He pet the little creature, marveling at just how soft its fur was.

 _So fluffy…_

'Look at you! You're a little fluffball, aren't you?' The dog merely stared back at him with admiring eyes.

 _Just too adorable._

'I'm taking you home with me.' He said with decisiveness, picking up the Pomeranian without question as to how it ended up here in the first place. 'And you know what? I'm naming you, too. Your name is going to be…uh… Frederick! Or maybe Fritz Jr.? Which do you prefer, nameless little doggy?'

The Pomeranian stared back vacantly, tongue still sticking out.

' _Ja_ , I agree. Fritz Jr. is better.' Prussia ruffled the furry little dog affectionately. 'Off we go then! We can go mess up Austria's house together and then laugh in his face! This is gonna be so awesome…'

* * *

 **And so the adventure begins! This fic was originally going to just be a one-shot about Prussia getting a dog, but the more I wrote, the more ideas I got, and so a multi-chapter it became!**

 **Please feel free to leave a review, they are always appreciated even if you don't have much to say!**

 **Also, don't you love my title? It's very creative,no?**

* * *

 **Some translations:**

 _hülye = idiot_

 _scheißt = shit_

 _Masz problem_? _= Got a problem?_

 _Sza! = shush!_

 _Milczeć! = Quiet!_

 _Ein Zwergspitz = A pomeranian_


	2. It's not my fault!

_'_ _Was geht ab,_ West?!' Prussia burst into room, grinning idiotically with the Pomeranian set on top of his head. 'Prepare yourself for the combined awesomeness of Prussia and his magnificent _Zwergspitz!_ Are you jealous already?'

'Hey Prussia! How are you~'

'Ah! Hey Italy!' Prussia was pleasantly surprised to find Italy sitting on the couch where he had expected to find his brother. The Italian looked at him with his usual expression of puppy-like excitement, and Prussia couldn't help but ruffle his hair. Yet another cute fluffy thing to marvel at.

'Where's Germany?' Prussia asked. 'And… why is your shirt open?'

Not that he particularly minded.

'Oh, yeah, it was hot in here so I started taking my shirt off but then Germany started looking pretty uncomfortable – I guess it was hot for him too, he was really red so I told him to put the air conditioning on for both of us but he said there wasn't any need and I should just put the shirt back on and that's when I suggested we have some nice gelato because my brother Romano makes this awesome gelato with cherries and its really delicious like the one time I ate it melted even though Romano said it would be ruined but it was still pretty tasty-' The Italian spoke with incredible speed, and after a minute or two Prussia completely lost track of what the hell Italy was talking about.

'– and so then he said he needed some fresh air or something and left.' Italy finally finished.

'I…see.'

'Also, what happened to the yellow birdie that follows you around?'

'Yellow bird?'

'Yeah and sometimes it would sit on your head just like the cute doggy on your head right now.' Italy waved his arms around, as is his hands would somehow express the point better. 'The yellow bird!'

Prussia picked the dog up from his head and looked above him. No yellow bird there. He looked at little Fritz's face. A tiny yellow feather was sticking out of his mouth.

 _Ah. Italy won't like this…_

'I don't know where the bird went, Italy. Maybe it flew away…?' He shrugged, plucking the feather from Fritz's mouth inconspicuously. He could not recall a yellow bird flying around him, but since Italy was so sure then perhaps it was true.

'Oh… okay then!' Italy beamed. 'That's a really cute doggy, Prussia! Can I pet him please~'

'Sure.' Prussia set the Pomeranian in the Italian's lap. Fritz wagged his tail excitedly and started licking Italy's face, who squirmed and laughed in response. It was almost too cute of a sight to bear. Prussia wasn't sure who was cuter – the fluffy Pomeranian, or Italy.

' _Bruder_?'

Prussia turned to find Germany at the doorway, looking rather displeased.

'Hey, Germany! You came back!' Italy beamed, waving his arms around like a dog might wag his tail when his master returns. Fritz did not pay much attention to Germany, continuing to lick Italy's cheek instead.

'What is Italy doing…?' Germany looked to Prussia disappointedly. 'And why is this dog here?' He shut the door behind him quickly.

'Isn't he adorable?' Prussia pinched Italy's cheek.

'Please tell me you're talking about the dog.'

'And if I wasn't?' Prussia grinned. His brother was so uptight. Messing with him was indeed a favorite pastime.

Germany sighed. 'Prussia, I don't think having this dog in the house is a good idea…'

'Why, 'cause Austria doesn't want it? Screw that bastard!'

Fritz started to yap frantically, as if joining in to support him.

'That's not the reason why.'

Squeakier, louder yaps.

'Austria doesn't complain about _your_ do-!' Prussia had started to say accusingly, before being interrupted by a loud thud on the door. A deep growl startled the three of them, and Germany looked more than a little worried.

'Prussia, get that dog out of here! You're riling them up!' Germany hissed.

Three dogs burst into the room, the door having proved to be of little impediment to them.

The German shepherd was the first to dash into the room, the Golden Retriever following close behind. A rather mischievous looking Dachshund then rushed in, dodging Germany's attempt to pick him up. Italy was the first to scream.

'AAAAGH!'

'Aster! Blackie! Berlitz! NO!' Germany yelled.

The three dogs surrounded Italy, who had bundled up into a little ball with Fritz in his arms and was frantically speaking in empty promises.

'Aagh! Please don't eat me I promise I'll be good I'll work harder on Germany's training regimen and I won't cut corners when I run laps around the field and I'll stop screwing around doing nothing all day and I super promise I'll stop sneaking into Germany's bed at night and I'll try not to eat so much pastaaaaaaa!' Italy wailed.

'Italy!'

'Fritz!'

Prussia and Germany scrambled to the surrounded Italian, wrestling the dogs off of him. Little Fritz had managed to squeeze through the commotion and escape, making a panicked dash out of the room. The three dogs immediately followed, leaving a traumatized Italy behind.

Prussia left Germany to tend to him, running after the ferocious dogs that threatened to hurt his sweet little Fritz.

 _Goddammit, West. I swear if your dogs lay so much as a paw on him I will make your life so totally not awesome._

A whine echoed in the house, and he felt his heart leap in his chest. This was not good. He dashed towards the sound, following it into the hallway, praying to Old Fritz that his dog wasn't hurt or worse.

The three dogs ran past him, running in the opposite direction with their ears bent back. Something was odd about the way they ran. Surely they hadn't been frightened by anything?

He turned the corner, feeling immensely relieved to find the white Pomeranian sitting there, unscathed and alive. He looked… happy, too.

'Fritz!' He ran to the Pomeranian and scooped him up, giving him a big smooch on the top of his fluffy head. 'I was so worried! I thought you might have been killed!' He hugged the dog close to his chest protectively.

'I'm going to murder West…' He muttered under his breath, making his way back to the living room. He could hear voices in there, so it seemed that Italy was okay. _Thank god for that._ He certainly wouldn't forgive his brother if both Fritz and Italy had been hurt by those mutts.

'How about this?' Prussia heard Germany ask Italy as he approached the room.

'Um… no? Actually, I mean yes! Yeah, that hurts a lot!' Italy squeaked.

'Italy…' Germany responded sternly.

 _What the hell is going on in there?!_ Prussia's eyes widened, his pace quickening, not sure if he wanted to see what was happening. But if Italy was being hurt, then surely he had to help?

He burst into the room, bracing himself for something potentially horrifying.

'I just wanted you to hold me, Germany!' Italy said, sitting on the floor. Germany was sitting on the floor too, his hands clasped around Italy's.

'Aagh!' Germany, having caught sight of a confused Prussia, flew back in his seat.

'Oh, hey Prussia! I'm so glad the doggy's alright!' Italy beamed, not embarrassed in the least about the fact that he had been holding hands with Germany, his shirt still open.

'Yeah…' Prussia turned to Germany, giving him a questioning look. _Care to explain?_ He wanted to ask, but before he could, Austria and Hungary had dashed into the room.

'Prussia, what in god's name have you done!?' Austria yelled, looking rather disheveled. His silk shirt was stained by muddy brown splotches, and Prussia thought the vein in Austria's forehead would burst at any moment. Hungary looked quite displeased, too.

'Why are you looking at me?' Prussia said. What was Austria even pissed off about?

Italy sitting in his living room with his shirt open? _Perhaps._

The stained shirt? _Likely._

Ferocious dogs running around his house? _Most definitely._

But none of these things were Prussia's fault in any way. At all. So the stupid aristocrat should stop looking at him like that.

'Prussia, give me one reason why I should not smash your face in with a frying pan.' Hungary growled. Prussia gulped. Perhaps little Fritzy could help…?

He hoisted the Pomeranian higher up, making sure Hungary could see his sweet little face. Surely she couldn't get angry with a face like that looking at her?

…Right? 

* * *

**This chapter was a little short, but that's only because not much is happening yet - but don't worry! I have plenty of wonderful things in store for Prussia...**  
 **Any thoughts on little Fritz? I've grown rather attached to him :3  
**

* * *

 **TRANSLATIONS:**

 _Was geht ab = What's up_


	3. This isn't normal

It was raining. His head hurt. He was cold. Wet. And worst of all, miserable.

But at least he wasn't alone – not that he had a problem with being alone or anything. No, being alone was awesome. It was just that being with someone was slightly – just slightly – more awesome.

So he was glad he had Fritz to keep him company as he sat on the front steps of Austria's house, too stubborn to 'get lost' – as Austria had put it – and yet too prideful to beg to stay either.

He could hear the lively chatter inside as they ate, wine glasses clinking gently. His own brother was in there, too, drinking that sissy wine with the pretentious bastard.

It wasn't long before the ivory notes on the piano were being played quietly, the trickling of cold, sharp notes making Prussia feel sick to the stomach. To make things worse, he had heard Hungary make an appreciative noise, encouraging Austria to continue. The soulless sonata played on, dry and stuffy like the piano player himself. God, if only he could burst into the room and give this dreadful song some _life!_

'My awesome flute playing has so much more awesomeness than that stupid aristocrat's piano playing!' Prussia muttered. He looked down into his lap where Fritz was shivering, the rain having stripped him of his usual peppiness. 'Ah, Fritz… they don't understand our awesomeness!'

'I agree.' The white Pomeranian replied.

' _Ja!_ I thought you would!' Prussia laughed rather smugly, feeling pleased that not only did his dog agree with him, but possessed such an awesomely deep voice, too! He wouldn't have thought it but, hey, looks _can_ be deceptive, after all.

Wait…

 _…_ _.What?_

Prussia looked at Fritz. Closed his eyes. Opened them again. Pinched himself. Yep, he was pretty sure he was awake.

'Fritz?' He said slowly. 'Could you do that again? Speak, Fritz!'

'I'm afraid there's only so much I can say without having to kill you.'

Prussia had mistakenly let a yelp escape his lips, feeling quite startled by this new discovery. Sure, it was cool to have a talking dog and all…but he certainly did not expect his dog to talk like _that._

Fritz just sat there in his lap, staring blankly and tilting his head, as if mildly curious as to his reaction. Like he was an observer taking notes…

'Are you okay, Prussia?' Hungary's voice made Prussia jolt in his seat, immediately wishing he hadn't done so.

 _Damn, I can't have her thinking I'm some coward! Quick! Say something!_

'Yeah, I'm awesome! I almost feel bad for you staying in that not-so-awesome house with that not-so-awesome stupid aristo-'

'I brought something.' Hungary shoved a plate of food at Prussia. Pretentious nobleman food, he might add, but food nonetheless.

'Thanks, I guess…' Prussia took hold of the plate until Hungary promptly pulled it away.

'Not for _you!_ ' Hungary scowled. 'For the dog.'

'Ah...' Prussia shoulders sank a little. Why did he think she would bring food for him in the first place? It was a stupid mistake. To make things worse, it seemed that Hungary was now laughing at him.

'Alright, that's enough - '

'I was joking, Prussia! You took it so seriously…' She wiped tears from her eyes, irises having seemingly gotten a more vivid shade of green.

'Tch! Yeah, well… Joke's on you. I already knew.' He grabbed the plate, yet again feeling like an idiot. He dug straight into the food, not giving much care as to his manners.

'…I'm sorry about Austria. He can be a little tense sometimes.' Hungary said, apparently not minding that Prussia was eating quite messily. She probably wished she could eat like that, Prussia thought, to dig her hands into a chicken leg and tear it with her teeth like some animal.

'…You have to understand where Austria's coming from when he does these things…' Hungary continued, although Prussia kept himself busy with polishing off the flimsy chicken bone.

Now that he had envisioned it, he thought the animalistic look rather suited Hungary, much more so than her 'civilized lady' act she had been putting on since she had started living with Austria. Surely she still had some desire to hunt or wear trousers once again?

'…All Austria wants is for the house to work in unity, he only wants the best for all of us…'

The old Hungary was awesome. Yes, she was annoying and admittedly, quite scary. But he still had respect for her. _Had._ Now she was playing the part of the kind, sympathetic woman, and frankly, it was a rather forced act. The true Hungary was a warrior, a fighter – not a pissed off housekeeper with a frying pan for a weapon. He felt bad for her, really.

'Not that I'm saying what you did was okay or anything, of course it made Austria very angry – and rightly so – but I think…'

Having finished off a dish that was decently satisfying, Prussia turned to face a pair of extraordinarily green eyes. She was still talking, but _goddamn_ what was it about her eyes that made them so enchanting? They seemed to almost radiate like jewels in the moonlight.

 _Basil jewels?_ He mulled over the description. _Basil…_ He concluded that 'basil jewels' was just about sufficient, and yet...

 _There must be a much more awesome description than this!_

He was on a quest to find the most awesome description, and with Old Fritz as his witness he would! _Now…_

He studied Hungary's eyes as she continued to talk, the words evaporating into the air as she spoke them. He narrowed his eyes and leaned a bit closer, because it kind of looked like there were flecks of hazel in her eyes too, but he couldn't be sure.

 _She does have flecks of hazel in her eyes!_ _What does this mean…?_

It meant his description had to be infinitely more awesome. Because 'basil jewels' simply would not cut it. Perhaps he'd have to come up with his own word to describe them. Something that was both spectacular and radiant and green. Like… greediant. Or… greediantacular.

Greendiantacular? God, that was such an ugly word. And a mouthful, too.

'Are you even listening?'

'Huh?' Prussia blinked. 'Uh… yeah.' _Scheißt,_ he'd done it again. Damn her bewitching eyes.

'Good. So you'll understand what I'm going to do next.'

Before he could say anything, before he could even guess as to what she meant by this, Hungary leaned in and wrapped her arms around him tightly, her head resting on his shoulder. He tensed up, not sure if she was trying to choke him out or perhaps… hugging him?

His heart pounded wildly as she squeezed him tighter, his face feeling like it was on fire. Is this what a hug was like? Prussia realized he had never had one before, let alone from a girl, and couldn't decide whether or not he liked it.

It was nerve-wracking. He didn't know what to do with his hands, leaving them awkwardly hanging mid-air, but he had to admit that Hungary was indeed very soft and fragrant. Her hair had tumbled down over both of their shoulders and Prussia felt an urge to touch it, but refrained from doing so. What would she think of him? He couldn't risk another misunderstanding. For all he knew this was yet another cruel joke of hers.

She pulled back, eyes averted away from him, muttering some excuse about Austria calling for her. She quickly flashed a shy smile at him before hurrying away. She had left as quickly as she had hugged him, leaving Prussia befuddled.

He looked to Fritz in his lap, button-like eyes blank as ever. 'You saw that, right? I'm not crazy!' Prussia asked, anticipating another chilling reply from the Pomeranian. There was none.

Perhaps he was crazy. He had imagined his dog had talked, and then fancied himself being hugged by Hungary. God, did that really happen? And what the hell did she say to him before the hug?

'Fritz, I'm getting old. I'm deaf _and_ I'm imagining things…' He sighed. It had stopped raining, too, but when had that happened? His memory of the whole evening was suddenly very fuzzy and muddled, he wasn't even sure if this was a dream or not. Sometimes it wasn't so awesome to be an ex-nation.

'I do not believe you are imagining things.' Fritz replied.

'Aaagh!' Prussia yelped. 'Okay, that's it! I'm getting you fixed, Fritz! This is not right!' Prussia got up with the Pomeranian in hand. His dog was very sick, and there was only one person he could think of that could fix him.


	4. Man in the Mirror

'What on earth are you on about…?' The Englishman glared at Prussia warily, bags under his eyes and ruffled blonde hair sticking out at odd angles. Perhaps Prussia should have taken into account the fact that it was 1 a.m. before banging on England's front door, but this matter was far too urgent to really care about disturbing England's sleep. His dog could talk, dammit, and he wanted answers.

'My dear Fritzy's been possessed by a demon and I need you to exorcise him! Only you can help me!'

Okay, so maybe he didn't actually believe his dog was possessed, but a little melodrama couldn't hurt his case, right?

'Why must I put up with one git after the other…' England huffed. 'Look, don't you think it's a bit late to be banging on doors like this? I'm… kind of busy right n –'

'What's the haps, old man!' America burst into the conversation from behind the Englishman, his voice loud enough to cause England to jump up like a startled cat.

'For fuck's sake, America! Don't call me an old man!'

'But, dude, you're hella older than me.'

'Don't say 'hella' either, you dummy.' England fumed. 'And I'm not _that_ old!'

'Chillax, man! I didn't say it was a bad thing…' America puffed out his cheeks in a way that might have been cute if he had been eight years old, but only proved to look silly for a man of his stature. Nevertheless, Prussia thought the gesture deserved some credit.

England turned to Prussia, finding the puffy cheeks not amusing in the least. 'I'm sorry about this, Prussia, but I just don't have time to deal with your… er-'

'But England! Look at his sweet, innocent little face!' Prussia thrust the Pomeranian towards England's face, a last desperate attempt in convincing him. Not that Fritzy's cuteness had helped him the last time he had utilized it, but one could hope that perhaps this time…

'Aw! He's so _cute!_ ' America squealed.

 _Gotcha._

'You can pet him if you like.' Prussia said.

America leaned over England's shoulder to ruffle the top of the pomeranian's head. 'He's hella cute, isn't he, Britain?'

The shorter blonde pursed his lips into a thin line. 'I guess.'

'Agh!' America quickly pulled his hand back. 'I think he bit me!'

'Did he…?' Prussia retracted the Pomeranian. 'Maybe he could smell food on you?'

'Maybe…' America rubbed the palm of his hand.

It had started to drizzle, droplets falling onto Prussia's still soaking wet jacket. The rain had come to pester him yet again. Lately it seemed as if a dark cloud of chaos had been following him around, showing up at every turn.

'I should take off.' Prussia said, certain the Englishman was not going to let him in anytime soon. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be. Just him and Fritz against the rest of the world. It was better like this anyway, right?

'Goodbye then.' England shut the door rather bluntly. Prussia tucked Fritz inside his jacket so he wouldn't be so cold and set off, until a faint muttering could be heard inside the house. He couldn't make out the words, but it sounded like America was pretty disappointed. England said something along the lines of 'what's another fool to put up with anyway…', and promptly opened the door.

'Wait, Prussia.' England called out. 'I'll help you with your, er, problem.'

'Really?!' Prussia bolted towards the front door, possibly more excited about getting into the warm, dry house than fixing whatever was wrong with his dog.

'Yeah, but don't think I'm doing it as a personal favor or anything. It's just gentleman's code.' America snickered at this, earning a heated glare from England. England turned back to Prussia when he felt he had sufficiently stared down America. 'Anyway, follow me. You can leave your jacket on the rack.'

Prussia shed off his dripping wet jacket and hung it next to what he presumed was America's brown leather jacket. Next to that was England's grey coat, and next to that was a cream colored coat. It looked… oddly familiar.

'Who's jacket is this?' Prussia asked, to which America shrugged.

'Dunno.'

'Will you two gits hurry up!' England said impatiently, making his way down a staircase in the next room. 'Or actually, America, you should wait upstairs. I'm only taking Prussia and the dog with me to the basement.'

'But I wanted to see you do your hella cool wizardy stuff!' America pouted. 'Unless…' He held his chin thoughtfully. 'Unless you don't want me to see the basement, because in actuality it's not a basement but an entire military base designed to conduct surveillance on all the nations without their knowledge and I'm an impediment to your –'

'Just _stay_ upstairs, America.' England snapped.

When Prussia caught up with England on the staircase, the blonde turned to him with a grave expression. 'Now, you must keep whatever you see here to yourself. Magic is not something to be taken lightly, and should not be shared indiscriminately.' He held up a finger to his lips. 'Confidentiality is of utmost importance.'

'Yep, yep. Got it. Let's go already!'

England gave a disapproving look before sliding a tall mahogany door open, the house groaning ominously, as if a portal to hell itself had been opened. The two walked into complete darkness.

'One moment, Prussia.'

A single candle lit up, illuminating England's face, the flame following him around as he proceeded to light several more candles around the basement. The room looked as if it had come straight out of the Dark Ages, stone floor and rotting wooden furniture making the air feel all the more heavy and stagnant.

'Hey, can't you just use magic to light up the candles?'

'Erm, yes…' England started to reply hesitantly. 'But it's no good to use magic all the time, only when needed.' Somehow Prussia felt his was more of an excuse than an explanation.

England threw off a dusty sheet from a floor mirror, revealing the intricate patterns on the wooden frame. Upon closer inspection, Prussia could make out tiny letters. The writing was very small so he had to lean in to get a better look-

'Don't touch that!' England said, smacking away Prussia's hand.

'Why not?'

'This mirror is more than what meets the eye.' England paced around the mirror, relishing his moment of authority. Only he could explain this - he was after all, an expert. 'I suppose you could call it….'

He halted in place for an unnecessary dramatic pause.

'A portal to the other side.'

'Is that supposed to sound scary?' Prussia snorted.

'It's a rather nasty place, Prussia. I wouldn't want to get stuck there.'

'Then why do you have a portal to it?'

'Well…' England's bushy eyebrow rose, a smug smile complementing the stupidly self-satisfied look on his face as he began to explain. He probably thought it looked sexy or something, but to Prussia he just looked…

Foolish. And ridiculous.

Fooldiculous. Yes, that was it. Fooldiculous!

'Hey! Are you even paying any bloody attention?!'

Goddammit, it happened again.

' _Ja_ , I was totally listening! Anyways, can we get to the part where you fix my dog? The dust here is making my nose itch…'

'Right…' England glanced at Prussia disappointedly, having hoped to have gotten a more awestruck response to his superb explanation of magic portals. 'What was the problem with your dog, again? Something about a demon?'

'Yeah, he talks sometimes. But it's not cute at all! It's super creepy!'

'I see.' England mulled over this for a moment. 'You might want to step back a bit. Or in fact, stand over there by the bookshelf. I'll have to use the mirror and I don't want him to see you. Or rather… you might not want to see him.'

'Who?'

'Hush now. It begins.' England pressed his hand onto the mirror and began to chant, the room suddenly going cold.

 _'_ _Aperire portal inter Duo illi mundi_

 _Eis conventuram_

 _Ut reuniunt_

 _Oportet supercilia meo.'_

Prussia waited for something to happen when silence fell, expecting something like violet plasma to burst out of the mirror and engulf them all into the depths of hell, never to see the light of day again. Instead, there was nothing. England simply stood there like he was waiting for the bus to arrive, casually and slightly impatient.

'Ah, hello.' England smiled weakly at the mirror. Prussia, who had obeyed England's instruction and stood by the bookshelf, was unable to see the front of the mirror - much to his dismay.

'Yes, it has. I apologize…. Er, no. An acquaintance of mine needs help, his dog can apparently talk. He seems to think it's been possessed or something, but I was wondering if you could think of any spells for this?'

Prussia stifled a chuckle. From here it looked very much like England was talking to himself in the mirror. Or for all he knew, he really _was_ just talking to himself. If only he could just take a look…

'Oh come on, you sugar crazed bugger! I know you heard me, now answer! What? For the spell?... Crikey! You still on about that?... No! No, I'm not paying you for that!'

Prussia was starting to think that perhaps all those rumors about England being a little loony were true. Alas, there was really only one way to confirm it - if England would let him. Maybe if he slowly inched towards the other side of the mirror, England wouldn't notice?

'I suppose I at least owe you for that… Alright, I'll give you your bloody ten pence! Here, take it!' England tossed a coin into the mirror, which to Prussia's surprise, did not bounce off. It seemed to have disappeared into the mirror. Still, he had to see it for himself to be sure. He was almost there now, having managed to get halfway there without England's notice. Just a few more steps and…

'Alright! I got it!' England threw the cloth over the mirror. _Damn._ 'Prussia, set the dog here on the circle.'

Prussia gently set down Fritz on the center of an intricately etched circle on the ground in front of the mirror, disappointed that he had not gotten to see who England was talking to. He stepped back and looked to England.

'Now what?'

'Now the spell begins! Make sure you're out of the way, I wouldn't want the spell to affect you as well.' England stood in front of Fritz, who had made himself comfortable perhaps too quickly. 'If I remember this correctly…' England held his hand out towards the circle and cleared his throat.

 _'_ _Convertat inutilis nocumentum. Est sicut fruit-_ Ah, no that's wrong. Sorry about that. I'll start again.'

England began to chant again, but Prussia was more interested by just how close the mirror was. Had he been a step closer, he could simply reach out and pull the cloth away. Only a step away…

Prussia slowly – ever so slowly – slid his right foot towards the mirror, his left carefully following. _He's too preoccupied to even notice!_

 _'_ _Convertat inutilis nocumentum. Est sicut fuit in. A meri stanis-_ No, wait. _A meri canis-_ Hold on, is that right…?'

Prussia made a final nudge towards the mirror. Finally, it was within reach!

' _Convertat inutilis nocumentum. Est sicut fuit in.'_ England chanted, a small green orb forming in his palm and for a moment Prussia was completely mesmerized by it. It seemed that England was not a loony, after all. Perhaps unveiling the mirror was not necessary then?

 _HA! As if! When the Great Prussia wants something, he gets it!_

And right now, he _really_ wanted to see what was in the mirror. Such curiosity had not burned in him for ages!

' _A meri canis infans!'_ England yelled triumphantly, having finally said the verse correctly. The green orb grew in size, and now all he had to do was direct it towards the pomeranian…

'Oh my god, Britain! This is so badass!'

England whipped his head around to find the American perched on the steps, jumping up and down like a child on Christmas morning. 'America, you _idiot!_ '

 _Now's my chance!_ Prussia thought.

Prussia yanked away the cloth from the mirror. 'A-ha!'

Before he could get a good look at the mirror, the green orb shot out from England's palm, shooting just above little Fritz's head. It bounced off the mirror and was heading straight towards England, who yelped and made a quick duck down. England did not realize at the time that by doing so, he had left America exposed.

'Oh shi-' America was cut short.

'America!' England cried out.

Prussia's breath stopped, his gaze transfixed onto the man in the mirror before him. It was undoubtedly his own reflection and yet he looked so foreign. A cross shaped scar marked his porcelain white face, crimson eyes staring vacantly back at Prussia. Bandages and bruises decorated his arms like jewelry. He looked terrifying. Intimidating.

And incredibly sad.

Prussia lifted his hand up slowly, the other man following. A faint whisper left the breath of his reflection, although Prussia had said nothing.

'What is it?' Prussia asked.

' _Näher._ ' His reflection replied hoarsely, his voice faint and cracking like a burnt up letter, old and long forgotten.

Prussia leaned in.

' _Näher._ ' The voice spoke a little more strongly, although still just above a whisper. The eyes in the mirror seemed to burn more intensely as Prussia approached. He felt hesitant to do so, and yet he felt incredibly drawn to this man. This man who was supposed to be his reflection, the way he truly was in the eyes of others. But how could his reflection be look so broken and cold? Surely this was not him.

Prussia placed his hand on the mirror, the other man closing in and doing the same, his forehead pressed against the mirror.

' _Wir sind allein.'_ The man muttered.

'How can you say that?' Prussia leant back slightly. 'We're not alone. I'm not alone.'

The man bared his teeth in what Prussia thought might have been a grin, but the expression looked so heartbroken, it was hard to believe it was a smile.

' _Einsamkeit.'_ The reflection hissed, his hand tightening into a fist. ' _Du weißt was es bedeutet.'_

'I don't.' Prussia felt a lump in his throat make itself present. Why would his reflection say such things? _Einsamkeit_. It was a pathetic word. So no, he did not know the meaning of it. He had never felt it. He never would feel it, because he was Prussia, the almighty and powerful. How could you possess all the glory of the world and throw it all aside with an ungrateful feeling like _einsamkeit_?

The man's other hand reached out beyond the mirror and grabbed Prussia's collar. ' _Einsamkeit.'_ The mirror began to crack and the man's twisted grin shattered into pieces, blood red eyes gazing wildly at Prussia as he was pulled closer and closer into the mirror.

It didn't mean anything to him. The word. The feeling. It meant nothing, because even when he was alone he never once wished for company. Even before Fritz. He could disappear and no one would shed a tear. No one had stuck around him long enough to care. But that didn't bother him in the least, because…because….

' _Einsamkeit.'_

He was used to it.

'Prussia, you bloody fool!' England grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him away from the mirror, quickly covering it with the sheet. 'What did you see?' England knelt down to Prussia, who had fallen to the ground but was too shell-shocked to try to get up.

'…Nothing.'

England gave him a long hard look before replying. 'I specifically told you not to look for a reason, Prussia. We can't always deal with the truth, and… neither can they. It could've driven you mad, perhaps even gotten you stuck on the other side. It was a stupid thing for you to do.'

'What's yours like?' Prussia asked, his expression drained and vacant. He was almost too exhausted to even speak.

England sighed. 'Let's not talk about Oliver today. He's… quite the nutter.'

'Oliver?'

'Yes, his name is Oliver. But right now we have more pressing matters, Prussia. Get up.' England took hold of Prussia's hand and hoisted him up. Prussia looked at little Fritz, who sat through the entire fiasco without moving an inch, tail wagging and tongue sticking out cheerfully. Of all the dogs Prussia could have stumbled upon, it had to be an odd one.

'Did the spell work?' Prussia asked.

'It _did_ … sort of.' England hesitated.

'What do you mean 'sort of'?' Prussia frowned. He glanced around the room. Now that he thought about it, where the hell did America go?

'England…' A child-like voice spoke. Prussia looked down and almost jumped up in surprise at what he saw. A blonde toddler had been by England's feet, bundled up in the now oversized red t-shirt, enormous blue eyes gazing in awe at the two of them.

'America?!' Prussia picked the child up - who was rather cute, he might add – and looked to England for an explanation.

England chuckled nervously. 'Er… yeah. I seem to have misfired and cast the spell on America by accident.' His expression went grave. 'Not to mention that you unveiled the mirror and let the spell bounce off.'

'Hey, you ducked it instead of making a self-sacrifice and letting the spell get you.'

'Don't you point the finger at me!' England grabbed little America out of Prussia's hands. 'The spell was faulty to begin with anyway. That cupcake bastard must have given me the wrong one on purpose.'

'Cupcake bastard…?' America gave England a wide eyed look.

'Yeah, he's a wank-' England covered his own mouth before he could finish. He cleared his throat and started again. 'He's not a very nice man.' England stroked America's soft blonde hair.

 _He seems to be enjoying this…_

Prussia withheld a grin, though it seemed he had failed miserably, because England was now glaring at him.

'What? You should be thanking me!' Prussia burst out in laughter, his spirit having seemingly being uplifted for a short moment. 'You're practically glowing!'

'I am _not!_ ' England fumed, red beginning to tinge the tips of his ears. 'Now if you don't mind, I have more pressing matters to tend to at the moment.'

Namely relishing America's dependence on him. But Prussia made no comment.

'So would you please just leave?' England rubbed the temples of his forehead. 'Perhaps if you came back tomorrow, I could… talk to him again and do the spell properly. I'm terribly sorry about this.'

 _Terribly sorry? As if!_

' _Na ja…_ Have fun babysitting. I was going to leave anyway!' Prussia swept Fritz off the ground and walked off towards what he assumed was the way out. It was so dark in here, it was hard to tell.

'Prussia… the stairs are that way.'

'I knew that!' Prussia made a sharp u-turn towards what was apparently the exit, according to that know-it-all England. _They're all the same. All of them – pretentious bastards!_

'Let's go, Fritz. I'm tired, aren't you?' Prussia said as he grabbed his jacket off the rack, the mysterious cream colored coat still there.

'Yes. Very tired.' The Pomeranian replied.

'Tch! Still not fixed, I see…' Prussia muttered as he slammed the door behind him, walking out into the heavy rain.

Despite the company of his dog, one word stood out in his mind as he charged through the rain. A word that no matter how hard he tried to push away, it would always resurface.

 _Einsamkeit._

* * *

 **Hence the existential crisis begins! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Dear Iggy has proved to be a very entertaining character to write for - besides Prussia of course!** _  
_

 **Some translations:**

 _Näher = closer/nearer_

 _Wir sind allein = 'We are alone'_

 _Einsamkeit = Loneliness_

 _Du weißt was es bedeutet_ _= 'You know what this means'_

 **Also, if any of you spot any mistakes - particularly where languages other than english are concerned - please PM me! Google translate isn't exactly 100% reliable and help would be appreciated.**

 **And of course, feel free to review! They make posting this story worth it!**


	5. Kitty-chan

There was a dream that would visit Prussia every night, without fail. Even now, as the cold rain pounded down on him, the vividness of it could not be drowned out. The crunching of leaves beneath his feet, the warmth of sunlight on his skin, and Hungary's chiming laugh echoing in the woods. It was all so familiar to him, and yet not once had Prussia ever shared such a memory with Hungary. It was a glimmering gem he would hold on to on the darkest of nights – nights like these.

His boots dragged across the wet pavement slowly, no longer aiming to go towards any particular place. He had nowhere to go anyway. The endless stretch of a darkened street in front of him seemed to confirm this, his eyelids starting to feel particularly heavy as the rain intensified. He wanted to fall asleep, badly. But for the most part, he needed to see his dream again, to see Hungary's glittering eyes in the forest.

Had he still retained his strength, he might have laughed out loud at this pathetic thought, this longing for such a sad little dream. Anyone else certainly would. Even little Fritz, who hung miserably in his arms without much protest to the rain - although Prussia did his best to shield him with his jacket – would laugh. To think that the great and almighty Prussia, once a glorious kingdom, was now an infatuated fool wallowing in the rain!

There were other sad little dreams, too. Infinitely more pathetic and hopeless dreams that Prussia had never divulged to anyone.

 _Fritz, none of these bastards know the half of it!_

The other nations could never even begin to imagine just how deep this sadness ran within Prussia. That's why he had to guard it so closely, to make sure no one ever knew. He simply couldn't allow it. They saw him as an outrageously confident man with a penchant for rubbing salt in the wounds of others, and he intended it to stay that way. He had no desire for his brother's or that aristocratic bastard's pity. Least of all Hungary's pity.

A dim streetlight in the distance gently illuminated the path ahead, making dark puddles of rainwater visible. Prussia made a note to himself to steer his eyes away from the ground, and looked only straight ahead. His reflection was the last thing he wanted to see right now.

The rain began to fade to a mere drizzle. Prussia might have rejoiced in this had the wind not picked up, a cold wind stabbing the soaking wet skin of his neck and face. He lifted up the collar of his jacket, although this didn't do much to stop the shivering.

A flight of steps of a porch caught his teary eye – teary because he was tired, he might add – and made the instant decision that this was where he would sleep tonight.

He slumped himself onto the wooden steps, trying to curl up as comfortable as possible, although this was a difficult feat to achieve given the circumstances. Nevertheless, this was good enough. He drifted off to sleep and let the darkness swallow him whole, anticipating the sight of those entrancing eyes once again. 

* * *

'Prussia-kun?'

The sound of porcelain shattering jolted Prussia, his eyes snapping open to find Japan hovering over him, brows furrowed in concern.

'Japan…?' Prussia grumbled, although the sound that left his lips sounded more like a dying animal than anything else.

'Just one moment, Prussia-kun.' Japan hurried out of the room, leaving Prussia to take in these unfamiliar surroundings. He was in what he presumed to be Japan's house, the paper thin walls hardly muffling Japan's worried voice. It sounded like he was talking to someone, the conversation soon followed by the sound of glass shards being swept onto a dustpan.

It's stuffy in here, Prussia thought, his chest heaving with difficulty. He realized it had been the fault of a cat comfortably perched on his chest. He brushed the cat away, cursing the fur it had left behind. It wasn't long until he would have a sneezing fit because of this.

Speaking of troublesome pets, Fritz was nowhere to be seen. A seed of panic began to sprout in Prussia's chest as he realized that he may have just lost his dog _._

'I'm so sorry for disturbing your sleep.' Japan returned, looking slightly flustered. 'It seemed like you were having a nightmare…'

 _Nightmare…?_ Prussia could not recall what he had dreamt about, although somewhere within the haze of his memory were a pair of intoxicatingly green eyes. And perhaps something about Hungary's hair entangling him….

Details of his dream were starting to resurface, and he wasn't sure he wanted them to. It seemed his once innocent and harmless dreams of Hungary had taken a turn for the worse, likely the result of that damn woman hugging him last night. Some things were best left forgotten, and this dream was undoubtedly one of those things.

'Yeah…' Prussia's face started to feel a little warm at the thought of his little 'nightmare'. 'You wouldn't happen to have seen a Pomeranian around here, have you?' He hoped this change of subject would keep feelings of immense embarrassment at bay.

'Pomeranian? We didn't see a dog with you when we found you.'

'We?'

'Ah, sorry. I meant Greece-san and I. We both found you on my front steps last night.' Japan hesitated before continuing. ' I hope you do not mind, but I had to remove your jacket as it was wet – please excuse me for doing so without your permis-'

'It's fine!' Prussia chuckled, his obnoxiously loud laugh cutting through the air like a knife. It was so calm and tranquil here - he couldn't help but feel a little out of place. 'I should be going now, anyway.' Prussia threw off the heavy blanket and fumbled for his shoes and jacket, which had been neatly placed by the edge of the futon.

'Ah, no!' Japan exclaimed, his expression becoming momentarily animated by what Prussia thought to be concern. 'Prussia-kun, you have not eaten anything! I have not been a good host!' Then, as if having heard himself for the first time, Japan's face reddened. '… Please forgive my forwardness, Prussia-kun.' Japan added quietly, his lips forming a thin line of self-restraint.

'I don't know, I kinda have to go look for-'

'Greece-san can cook something!' Japan's face brightened. 'Please stay a while longer, we can have tea.' 

* * *

Prussia took a sip of the tea Japan had brewed and revealed everything that had transpired until now to Japan. Something about this place made everything seem so much easier. Telling Japan about things he had kept bottled up spilled out effortlessly, and in doing so Prussia's problems began to look smaller and smaller. He had even told him about the man he had seen in the mirror. When he had finished, he let out a sigh and chuckled.

'Sounds crazy, right?' Prussia laughed perhaps too loudly, although he felt somewhat less burdened by doing so. 'Who would've thought I was actually such a pathetic mess! Ha!'

'But… you're not, Prussia-kun.'

'Eh?' Prussia looked up at Japan. He looked so earnest, so confident in what he was saying. It should have been reassuring to Prussia, and yet he felt that it was merely Japan's politeness. What else would Japan say other than 'of course you're not pathetic!'? He did not expect a blunt answer.

Before he could respond, Prussia's eye caught a mass of white just outside the window, staring in with those all too familiar, deceptively innocent eyes. _There you are._ The little rascal was just watching. Prussia should have felt relieved, but only felt a sense of foreboding as little Fritz sat there, waiting. But for what?

'Prussia-kun, I've always thought that you were-'

'The _galactoboureko's_ ready~' Greece barged into the room, a piping hot tray of pastry in his hands. His _bare_ hands.

'Ah! Greece-san, your hands!' Japan hurriedly led the Greek into the kitchen, his voice having seemingly jumped an octave. 'You've burnt yourself…' His voice trailed as he left the room.

Prussia took the opportunity to check up on Fritz and peeked out the window. Fritz was sitting patiently on the zen garden outside. He was throwing the little pebbles in disarray with his wagging tail, but at least he was not doing anything more destructive than that. Fritz was actually behaving himself.

 _Good. Now stay that way._

'Please excuse me for that,' Japan returned from the kitchen with Greece. 'Greece-san was being forgetful…' Japan huffed lightly, Greece standing by him with bandaged hands. Greece looked rather pleased with them, and did not react to Japan's surprisingly passive-aggressive comment. It seems the two could forgive each other easily, Prussia thought with a tinge of envy.

'You should try the _galactoboureko,_ Prussia. It's good.' Greece spoke softly with a faraway look on his face. Prussia didn't know what to make of it. This guy was certainly… odd.

Japan nodded in agreement. 'Let's eat.' Japan seated himself opposite of Prussia, and Greece seemed to fumble around for a moment as if to determine which seat was best for… whatever he was trying to do. Prussia could not for the life of him guess what was going on in that man's head. This was the nation that supposedly gave birth to modern philosophy and democracy and yet it seemed he was a total airhead.

Prussia inwardly chuckled. _What a loser! Indeed, no nation can outmatch my greatness!_

'I hope you don't mind me sitting next to you…?' Greece asked as he took a seat a little too closely. In fact, Prussia was pretty sure this guy was invading his personal space right now.

Prussia scooted away slightly, dismissing this as merely a cultural difference - until Greece shuffled closer to Prussia. Another scoot to the right. Greece followed promptly.

 _Mein Gott…_ _he's a clingy one._

Prussia made one final scoot. He was now on the edge of the table. Greece adjusted his position, sighing happily when he was finally seated directly in front of Japan, who had watched the entire ordeal in helpless silence. Once again, poor Japan had to reconcile the conflict of two nations that were possibly too attached to him for his own comfort at times.

'Is… Is everything okay?' Japan finally managed to ask.

'Everything is perfect.' Greece hummed.

 _So that's how it is, huh?_ Prussia made a note to himself to never underestimate the wits of another. And yet, one would think he'd have learned this lesson by now. Talking dogs, crazy Englishmen with freaky mirrors, jealous Greeks – Prussia lost all hope on what he used to think was a world that made sense.

Prussia set this thought aside as he dug into the pastry, the sweetness of the custard dissolving onto his tongue delightfully. The first bite was quickly followed by another, and before he knew it the desert had been polished off.

'You like it?' Greece asked. His plate was empty too, although Japan seemed to be struggling to keep up. Prussia nodded curtly.

'It's called _galactoboureko.'_ Greece said.

'Yes, I know.' Prussia responded, although his eyes were drawn to the window. Fritz was moving now. What was he up to?

'It's Greek.'

'I-I know.' There were pebbles flying about outside, and then Prussia realized. The damn Pomeranian was _digging_ _up_ the zen garden. There was a statue at the center that was starting to lean to the side slowly as the pebbles beneath it were removed. It was going to fall.

'But don't let Turkey tell you otherwise.'

It's going to fall.

'Because he'll tell you it derived from baklava, which is Turkish. But it's not….'

It's going to _fucking_ fall.

'Baklava and galactoboureko are completely different. Besides, even baklava is technically Greek so even in that case…'

The statue made a rapid descent, somehow missing Fritz by a hair. The thud startled all three of them, but before Japan could turn his head to look Prussia laughed as obnoxiously loud as he could.

'HA! That's great, Greece! Really, I'm so glad you told me about your nation's cuisine!'

'I hadn't finished yet…' Greece glanced at Prussia, and then to the window with suspicion. Thankfully, though, Japan was still clueless.

'Greece-san, the desert was very delicious.' Japan spoke curtly, although Prussia could hear the underlying fondness in his voice. Everything was so subtle with Japan, it took a great, spectacular mind like Prussia's to really understand what he was saying at times. He wondered if Greece had mastered this skill, too.

'Would you like some more, Japan?' Greece asked.

'Oh, no, thank you. I really shouldn't-'

'I'll get some more then!'

Perhaps not. Prussia had misjudged the Greek. Yet again.

When Greece had left the room, Prussia reclaimed his original seat, making sure Japan would not turn around to witness the destruction Fritz was unleashing upon the zen garden.

'Prussia-kun,' Japan set the tea down once Greece was out of earshot. 'There is something I must ask of you.'

Prussia looked at Japan questioningly. 'A favour?'

'I guess you could call it that.' Japan's gaze remained fixed onto the teacup as he spoke. ' _Ano_ …there's… there's an item I need you to return to its owner.'

'An item?' Prussia glanced out the window to check on Fritz. Pebbles were still flying about. A bonsai tree seemed to be the next victim, the plant tilting ever so slowly as Fritz dug at its base. Prussia inwardly cursed the damn dog and its meddlesome tendencies.

'Yes…' Japan hesitated. He lowered his voice. 'It's… um… I'll just show you.' Japan made a quick check to make sure no one – presumably Greece – was looking, before reaching underneath the table to retrieve…

A giant stuffed kitty.

'I need you to return this to China.' Japan said, his eyes downcast in shame.

'What are you doing with a giant stuffed kitty?' Prussia withheld a grin. Japan looked so unwilling to be associated with it – how could you not want to laugh at such a priceless expression?

'I…I would rather not discuss it.'

'Oh?'

'It's a very personal matter.'

'A matter you can't even tell me about?' Prussia leant forward. His curiosity had been peaked, and dammit, he just _had_ to know.

'But I am so ashamed of it…'

'I did tell you all about _my_ personal matters. This time let me be the listener.'

'…I suppose you have a point.' Japan sighed, his brows furrowing as if he were concentrating on something. 'I… was having difficulty sleeping some time ago. China told me that… _Kitty-chan_ helped him sleep when he had nightmares. But I don't want it anymore, so I need you to return it to China.'

'Because it doesn't work?'

'N-no… not quite.'

'Why then?' Prussia asked, his eyes quickly flicking towards the window behind Japan. The bonsai tree had already fallen, and suddenly now Greece was outside, trying to get the tree back up but getting hit by pebbles in the process.

'I found some…thing else to help me.' Japan spoke with a careful choice of words. Not that Prussia didn't notice.

'You mean _someone_.' Prussia raised a cocky brow, his astute observation having caught even the slightest of nuances. Such was the greatness of Prussia!

Japan's lips shut into a thing line, his hands clasped nervously around the teacup. 'Either way, please understand how uncomfortable the situation is for me. I cannot explain this to China without being humiliated for it. Please, Prussia-kun, I need your help.'

'It's Greece, isn't it?'

'Eh?!' Japan's face flushed a deep red. 'What makes you say that?'

'So I guessed right, huh?' Prussia burst into laughter. 'I knew it! I kne-'

A loud crack startled the two of them. Japan turned towards the window, which now had a large fracture – likely the result of a pebble Fritz had sent flying with his cursed digging.

'Greece-san…?' Japan got up to look through the window. Prussia braced himself to get kicked out any moment now. At least it wasn't raining today.

'Quick, quick, he's coming!' Japan hurried to the table, picking up the giant stuffed kitty – so giant it was almost Japan's size – and tossed it in Prussia's way. 'Take it!' Prussia had never seen Japan act so frantic and panicky. And apparently, Japan did not care much for the zen garden.

'How am I supposed to explain this to Greece?' Prussia asked, having caught the plushie in his arms.

'I-I don't know. Say it's yours!'

'Yeah, and I just pulled this big ass thing out of my front pocket.' Prussia said dryly. 'He's not going to believe that!'

Greece entered the room, Fritz in hand. The little rascal was sticking his tongue out, as if he had just returned from a nice walk, his eyes sparkling ever so innocently.

'The dog did it.' Greece said blankly to Japan, as if the blame for what had happened outside was automatically placed on him.

'Yeah… that's my dog you're talking about.' Prussia chuckled nervously as he took Fritz, holding 'Kitty-chan' in his other hand nonchalantly. Greece noticed it, giving Prussia an odd look.

'…That's a very nice cat you have there.' Greece said.

' _Ja_ …' Prussia said. He then remembered what Japan had asked of him. 'It's mine.'

'Oh' was all Greece said in response.

Really? _Really?_ All he had to do is say it's his? No further questions asked? He would never cease to be amazed at this guy's absent-mindedness.

Japan looked out the window and said disappointedly. 'Greece-san and I have much work to do…'

'You're not angry?' Prussia asked. This guy didn't seemed ticked off in the least.

'I am angry.' Japan spoke, softly as always. 'I have never been angrier.' He sighed lightly and there it was. All of his anger having escaped in a tiny huff of breath.

'Me, too.' Greece added. 'I'm so angry I could take a nap.'

'Right…' Prussia said slowly. 'I think I will be going now.' He had done enough damage as it is. Or rather, the dog had.

Prussia turned to leave. Just as he reached the front door – which he miraculously found without going in the wrong direction – he stopped to say one last thing.

'And Japan, don't worry! You're secret's safe with me! _Mach's jut!'_ He grinned.

'What secret?' He heard Greece say.

'Ah…n-nothing.' Japan responded quietly, shutting the door gently.

Prussia smiled at this as he walked off, pomeranian in one hand and a giant stuffed kitty in the other. Oh, what a day this was going to be! 

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter - Japan and Greece are one of my favorite pairings, they're just so fun to write for!**

 **Translations:**

Mach's jut = Literally 'Make it good', used to say goodbye

Galactoboureko, in case anyone is wondering, is a greek desert that's sort of like custard with layers of filo on top. Very yummy :P

 **Feel free to review and let me know what you thought of this chapter!**


	6. The fault, dear Prussia

As Prussia approached China's house, he couldn't help but feel just a little ridiculous – lugging a giant stuffed kitty around like this. Not to mention he was not all that familiar with China. How should he approach him?

Easy! Simply shove Kitty-chan at him and laugh in his face! That was the way to treat an unfamiliar person, right? This way, Prussia would show his dominance _and_ his light-heartedness!

As he went to knock on the front door, buzzed with the formation of his little plan, he realized it had been left ajar.

'… _Hallo?_ ' He pushed the door slightly further open with his finger, peeking his head in. It was dark, and the silence gave off an unsettling feeling. Nevertheless, this did nothing to stop the Great Prussia from completing his task!

He swung the door open and set foot inside, cold air escaping the house as he did so. He had to admit, this place was a little eerie. A strangely unsettling scent of honeysuckle lingered in the air, as if to lure him in. Not to mention, as his boots made clacking noises against the laminated wooden floor, Prussia thought he could hear something else, too. It was a quiet, muffled sound – and it seemed to be coming from behind one of these doors…

Following the muffled noise, which started to sound more and more like crying as Prussia approached, he stopped in front of a door in the darkened hallway. He raised his hand to knock, but then thought better of it.

'China?' You in there?'

'Who is it?' A wobbly voice snapped back at him.

'Who am I? Ha! You should know! I'm the almighty and awesome Prussia!' Prussia bellowed, remembering Old Fritz's advice that first impressions mattered. ' _Ja_ , I brought something for you. It's from Japan, you know.'

The door creaked open, and Prussia prepared himself to throw the plushie at him, as planned. And yet, _somehow_ , his will to do so dissipated at the sight of China's head timidly peeking out. China's eyes were red and puffy, a sniffle escaping him occasionally. It seemed he had been crying, and rather than reveling in the misery of others as Prussia might have done so many moons ago, he found himself opting for the gentler method of handing over the plushie.

'Here. Japan doesn't need it anymore.' Prussia offered the giant kitty, his ability to cackle obnoxiously having apparently left him as well. _Mercy is a virtue,too. Right, Old Fritz?_

'Ah, my kitty!' China grabbed the plushie voraciously and hugged it tightly, squishing it against his cheek gleefully. 'It's been so long…!'

' _Ja_ , that's real nice. Okay, bye bye now.' Prussia waved a hand and started walking toward the front door with Fritz still in his grasp, the Pomeranian having not destroyed anything this time around.

'Um, Prussia-'

'I'm going the right way!'

'N-no, I was going to ask if you could… stay a while longer?'

'Why?' Prussia looked at China carefully, as if expecting him to be up to something, but only saw a child-like longing for company in his widened brown eyes.

' _Nèi ge_ … my basement needs cleaning out, but I don't want to do it alone. Korea wouldn't help me when I asked him, and Hong Kong wouldn't even return my calls. _Aiyah_ … and then there's Japan who won't even look me in the eye! Four thousand years is a long time and never before have I felt so-'

'Okay. Fine. _Ja_. I'll help.' He really did not want to hear the rest of that rant. And… he felt a little bad for him, too. Besides, he would clean the basement with admirable skill, get praised for it, and then leave. No harm done, right?

That is, as long as Fritz behaved himself.

'Ah, _xièxie!_ You are so much nicer than those other guys! Here, I'll show you the room!'

China set the plushie aside and led Prussia downstairs to the basement, still not bothering to turn any lights on in the hallway. Thankfully, he switched on a flickering light in the basement. It barely worked, but it was good enough.

'It looks like a lot, but I'm sure the two of us will clean it quickly!' China clapped his hands together with determination. 'Okay, basically put anything to do with Russia in this box! And anything that has a little blood on it can go in this box! Got it?'

 _Russia? Blood?_ Prussia didn't know if he wanted to touch anything either bloodied or associated with Russia. The guy was a creep - what was China doing with him?

China had already hurried off to a corner, throwing items into the box quickly and decisively. He was getting through that pile fast. Prussia wanted to ask him about… Russia and the 'blood', but it seemed like China was very much focused on cleaning out the basement. He should be doing the same. He was given a very important task, after all.

He set Fritz down by the box and picked up a dusty book off of a shelf. _Economic Problems of Socialism in the USSR_. He threw it into the box. _Marxism and Problems of Linguistics_. Into the box. A copy of _The Communist Manifesto,_ annotated extensively in Russian handwriting – at least that's what Prussia assumed it was _–_ so into the box it went _._ He continued to empty out the bookcase, marveling at just how extensive this library was. At last there was one more book left, pushed back into the far corner. He grabbed it and checked the title.

 _Understanding the Sadistic Tendencies of Russians: A Lovers Handbook._

Prussia threw the book into the box hastily. He felt a little sick just thinking about it. He busied himself with a chest by the bookcase and rummaged through it. He found a khaki-colored military uniform, bloodstains covering a large portion of the sleeve and back. Why China had kept it, Prussia had no idea. Whatever the reason, it belonged to the box full of bloodied things and Russia's belongings.

Next in the box was a white scarf. _Eugh._ It almost felt as if Prussia was holding the Russian's rotten heart in his hands, still pulsing vigorously, its blackened blood staining everything it touched. He immediately went to dump it into the box, when China grabbed his hand.

'Wait!'

'What?' Prussia looked at China, who was staring at the scarf with a pained expression. He looked torn between two decisions, his eyes flickering back and forth from the box to the scarf. Prussia was somewhat puzzled by this- why would China hold on so tenaciously to the memory of that vile Russian? China released his grip on Prussia and sighed.

'Aiyah… yeah, throw that in, too.'

Prussia dropped the scarf into the box, China watching him do so with a forlorn expression.

'Why are you looking at it like that?'

'Hm?' China snapped his head toward Prussia. 'Like what?'

'Like I just threw a kitten into a fire.'

'Don't say such things!' China snapped. 'I'm just… adjusting. Change is not a pleasant feeling for me.'

'Change as in… a break-up?' Prussia threw the word in there like he had set off a grenade. He was waiting for China to explode any moment now with annoyance or anger. He might even get kicked out. Prussia watched carefully.

' _Jiù shì…_ ' China spoke softly with his eyes on the ground. 'I guess you could call it that.'

'So what happened?' Prussia adjusted his tone, perhaps feeling that this was a more sensitive matter than he had expected.

'A lot of things happened. He'd pay me to do his dirty work, sort out that mess with Korea… I still have the scars from that. And then when it was all over he expected me to pay him back with interest even though we were –we were- Aiyah!'

China whipped around and smashed the bookcase Prussia had just cleaned out. The shelves flew off in massive shards, a loud crack making Prussia flinch.

'I…' China panted. 'I will never trust a Russian again. Never again!'

Prussia said nothing, unsure of where to even begin after an outburst like that. It seemed China had felt the same, too, finding a pile of old memorabilia to busy himself with. Fritz was simply sitting by the box, apparently unaffected by China's flare of anger. The pomeranian was oddly well-behaved today, and had not said a word since yesterday. It stayed quiet for a while, until China spoke up again, this time without even looking up at Prussia.

'But sometimes… I think about the good things we had, too. It was nice to have someone who wanted the same things, hated the same people, and had your back - when he felt like it. I don't like being alone.'

A tiny voice urged Prussia to agree, to sympathize, but instead he kept his mouth shut. There was work to be done, anyway, so he continued picking up the remnants of the bookcase and setting it into a neat pile.

 _'W_ _ǒ_ _hěn xi_ _ǎ_ _ngniàn tā…'_ China murmured wistfully.

Prussia wanted to ask what that meant, but decided it wasn't anything worth hearing. He had a pretty good idea what it meant - at least, what he suspected. The room was uncomfortably quiet now, and Prussia felt the need to finish this job as quickly as possible. He had enough of hearing China's sorrows, perhaps because they were reminding him of a particular word, a word he refused to say to himself once again.

'That's why… I have to fix this.' China spoke delicately as a shadow loomed over Prussia's workspace, the outline of a slender figure towering over him. 'I must regain his trust.'

Before Prussia could even turn around, something heavy crashed onto his head, making a sickening crack as it hit him. His head throbbed as the world spun around him rapidly, cold brown eyes watching him as he fell to the ground. Darkness seeped in and began to engulf him, China's words reaching him from what felt like a faraway place.

'I don't want to be alone anymore.' 

* * *

The sky was so bright, basking everything with streams of white light. It almost hurt to keep his eyes open. _What is this place?_

Then, as if a cloud had passed over him, the world darkened a little. He realized he was lying in the grass, a breeze sweeping over him. A pair of hands smoothed his hair gently. He realized his head was resting in someone's lap.

 _Am I dead?_

'Don't be ridiculous, Prussia.' A voice spoke to him. Prussia looked up to find Hungary gazing at him with the vividly green eyes that he was always so entranced by. It seemed even in the afterlife he could not escape them.

'I told you, you're not dead.' Hungary chuckled. It seemed she could hear his thoughts.

'Then where am I?'

'That doesn't matter.' She caressed the side of his face, and Prussia was surprised that he was not blushing profusely. Everything about this felt natural and familiar. He wanted to close his eyes and drift away.

'You shouldn't close your eyes, though.'

'Why not?'

'Just don't.'

'If you're going to give me half-assed answers to my questions then don't bother!' Prussia said irritably. This was certainly not one of his dreams, not if Hungary was annoying him like this.

'That's only because you're asking the wrong questions.'

'What am I supposed to ask?'

'Oh, I don't know. Will you disappear one day? Will Hungary ever understand how you really feel? Why is it that you can be surrounded by so many people and yet still feel so isolated and alone?'

Prussia stayed quiet for a moment, looking at the sky and avoiding her gaze. He knew it wasn't really Hungary. It wasn't a dream, either. But whatever it was, it was asking him questions he didn't want answered.

'But you do want to know the answers.' She traced the outline of his jaw, leaning in closely so that Prussia could not escape from her eyes. 'You're just afraid it won't be the answers you want.'

'I'm not afraid.' He spoke, although his voice came out as a whisper.

'Then shall I answer them for you? Let's begin with the first one. Will you disappear one day? Yes.'

A lump formed in Prussia's throat. He tried to focus on how the sky was now darkening like a burning ember, an azure ceiling no longer framing Hungary's head as she continued to speak to him.

'Will Hungary ever understand how you really feel? Perhaps not. I take it she's rather enamored with Austria, anyway.'

The sky transformed into a hue of violet, stars faintly glimmering as the air got colder.

'And lastly, why do you feel so alone? Because you are alone. You're not a nation anymore, and frankly, you have little connection with the others.'

The sky was now almost pitch black, only the few and sparse specks of light keeping Prussia from being engulfed into darkness once again. He could no longer see her eyes, and although he felt her warm breath on his face, he felt truly and utterly alone.

 _Einsamkeit._ The word dominated him, defined him. It was all that was left of him.

Slender hands wiped away at his cheeks, and he realized it had been tears she was brushing away.

'But Prussia… you haven't asked me the most important question.'

'What question is that?' Prussia croaked out.

'Can you change your future?' She took hold of his hands and raised them up towards the night sky. 'The answer is yes. Nothing is written in stone, or the heavens, for that matter.'

'Now you're just spewing useless poetry at me. You just said I would disappear and that I was alone and that Hungary would never-'

'I did. But that doesn't mean the answer can't change.' Hungary chuckled lightly. 'Everything you've done up to now and everything you will continue to do matters. If you do not like the answers I gave you, then you have to change.'

'Change how?' A red sun was starting to emerge in the horizon, the sky streaked with red as if it was on fire.

Hungary shrugged with a smile. 'That's for you to figure out.' She leant down and kissed him on the forehead. 'I must go now. Goodbye, Prussia.'

The sky burst into a white light, the entire world evaporating away into the air. When Prussia awoke, he found himself gazing at a cracked ceiling, not quite taking in his surroundings yet, but instead trying to firmly grasp Hungary's words before they too could disappear.

* * *

 **This chapter was a little strange to write, not sure why - I guess it turned out a little differently than what I had expected. I did, however, enjoy writing sad China a little too much haha.**  
 **Also, thank you so much for the reviews - reading your reactions to each chapter really makes my day!**

 **Translations:**

 _Nèi ge = a filler word, equivalent to 'um'_

 _Jiù shì = another filler word_

 _xièxie = thank you_

 _W_ _ǒ_ _hěn xi_ _ǎ_ _ngniàn tā = I miss him_

 **Brace yourselves for the next chapter, things are about to get crazy...**


	7. Damsel in Distress

Prussia did not know where he was, but he could say for certain that this very much looked like a prison cell. There were no windows, only a single metallic door – the only brand-new looking thing in the room. Everything else looked old, rusty, or was falling apart. The paint on the walls was cracked, the bed he was laying on stiff and rather uncomfortable. There was a wooden chair by the bed, and a questionable bucket in the corner – although he did not have to look into it to know what it was for.

Fritz was nowhere in sight, and Prussia once again felt an all too familiar panic in his chest. He had to get out of here and look for him.

He was about to get up in search of a weapon to hit his captor with – perhaps the chair? – when voices outside made his body tense. He stood still, trying to pick out the muffled words from beyond the metal door. A burst of laughter startled him, and he realized it was China. Who he was talking to, Prussia could not tell.

There was a momentary silence, until a metallic clink set Prussia into motion. He grabbed the chair and hurried into position, next to the door so that his captor would not see him until it was too late. He raised the chair above his head and waited, holding his breath.

The door slowly creaked open. In fact, it was opening at a painfully slow rate. The bastard knew. He was toying with him.

Prussia would not wait any longer – no, he _could_ not wait any longer. He leapt in front of his captor and blindly brought the chair down onto him, the chair shattering into pieces.

'Nice to see you too, Prussia.' A familiar voice chimed, bringing with it unwanted memories of a time best forgotten. Prussia took a step back, the glare of cold violet eyes making his throat suddenly feel dry. This was not good.

'You know, in Russia we say hello with a smile.' Russia tilted his head with a particularly terrifying gleam in his eye. '…Is that funny face you're making a smile?'

Prussia took another step back, his heart speaking for him in loud thumps.

 _No._

 _This is not a smile._

 _This is the face of a man terrified for his life._

But no words came out of his mouth. Some other day he may have laughed and boasted in the presence of this nasty piece of work, perhaps even picked a fight with him. But within the last twenty-four hours it seemed his bravado had dissipated, and the only thing that concerned him now was how to get past the Russian's towering frame and escape this hell-hole.

Russia shut the door behind him, the metal clang making Prussia's heart sink as he realized his chances were not so optimistic. 'Why don't we sit down and have a friendly chat?' Such a sentence should not have sounded as sinister as it did, and yet it made his heart beat even faster. Prussia sat on the bed, Russia taking a seat next to him.

Russia smiled. 'Don't look so scared! We're friends, right?'

'Y-yeah…' Prussia croaked, his eyes wandering around the room for a weapon to use. Fists were not enough against Russia – he knew that perhaps too well. 'Er… Why am I here?' He asked in hopes of stalling whatever perverse plan the Russian had in mind.

'Why?' Russia's smile fell, as if the answer had been obvious. 'Because we have catching up to do, don't we? Ah, don't you remember when you lived in my house? _Da_ , those were good times…'

 _No. No, they weren't,_ Prussia wanted to say, but kept his mouth shut instead. He spent years trying to forget that that time. In fact, he still was – the scars of hard labor and mental torture would still sometimes sneak up on him at night, keeping a good night's rest at bay until the early hours of the morning. If he didn't escape now, he was certain he and Fritz would have to endure the same reign of terror. He just hoped Russia hadn't already done something worse to Fritz.

'Where's Fritz?' He asked with perhaps more aggression in his voice than he had intended.

'Hm?'

'My dog. Where is he?'

'Ah, yes… _Fritz._ ' Russia smiled wistfully. 'He's a very good dog, _da_?'

'What did you do to him?' Prussia struggled to keep his voice steady, part of him wanting to run away as far as he could, the other wishing he could crush his smug smile under his boot.

'He wanted me to let you know that you were a very good master.' Russia ignored the death glare in his direction. 'Very warm and nice to sleep on, too, he says.' Russia pat Prussia's head affectionately, although Prussia felt the urge to recoil from his gloved hand.

'Ah!' Russia's face lit up. 'You know, there is something we never got to do, you and I. It would be a shame to miss the opportunity.'

'To do what?' Prussia did not like where this was going.

'This is going to be so fun! I haven't done this a long time. The last time I did it was with China a few years ago.'

'With China…?' Prussia remembered the book he had found in China's bookshelf and shivered.

' _Da_ , he wasn't too fond of it though… He couldn't walk straight for days afterwards! Haha…!'

A loud drum started beating, as if some diabolical ritual was about to take place, but then Prussia realized it was his own blood pumping loudly in his ears. He needed to get out of here _now._

'We can't do it without music though…' Russia said thoughtfully, before calling out. 'Lithuania! Bring in the music!'

The metallic door creaked open, Lithuania's worried face peeking in. 'H-hello, Prussia- and Mr. Russia, of course!' He chuckled nervously as he wheeled in an end table with a gramophone on it. 'Prussia, I'm really sorry about what happened with Poland yester-'

'Lithuania.' Russia chimed in a sickly sweet voice. 'Have you and Poland finished the job I gave you? The one I said was _very_ important?'

'N-not yet.'

'Because Netherlands is still making me compensate for your cute little stunt, and unless you don't compensate _me_ for that, I'm sure there is plenty of space for you and the others to stay the night…'

'Gyah! N-no, that won't be necessary. I understand, Mr. Russia.' Lithuania backed out of the room, his face having gone pale. He gave Prussia an apologetic look, and closed the door soundlessly. Prussia's eyes darted to the door, relieved to find a tiny sliver of light where the door was supposed to have shut. This was the opportunity he needed.

Russia walked up to the gramophone, pulling a vinyl out of its sleeve and placing it onto the gramophone. 'This is one of my favorites. My old boss used to really like it, too.'

A waltz started to crackle through the speaker, Russia humming along with it.

' _Тихо вокруг, сопки покрыты мглой…_ ' He sang as he turned and held his hands out to Prussia. 'Come here.'

Prussia reluctantly stood up, careful not to give away his escape plan by looking at the door too conspicuously. Russia took hold of his left hand firmly.

'Put your other hand on my shoulder.' Russia ordered. When Prussia had done so, Russia smiled lightly and placed his hand on Prussia's waist. Prussia flinched, cursing himself for making it so obvious that he did not want to be here.

'It's okay to be nervous.' Russia pulled Prussia closer, the vodka on his breath making Prussia's stomach churn uneasily. 'Shall we start?'

Somehow Prussia's troubled look translated to a 'yes', Russia nodding in response.

'Then let's dance!'

 _Dance?_

Prussia felt relief wash over him as Russia guided him throughout the room in swaying motions, their feet in synchronization with the somber waltz that echoed against the walls. Prussia was familiar with this type of dance, perhaps a little too well. He had seen Austria and Hungary dance like this when they thought they were alone, dancing as if they had been part of some fairytale. As stupid and boring as Prussia thought it was, he still wished he could be the one to sweep Hungary off the floor in graceful motions, holding her delicate hand in his. He wanted his own little fairytale, too. And so he learnt how to waltz, foolishly enough.

He never thought it would be put to use like this.

'You're very good at this, Prussia.' Russia chuckled. 'Don't tell me you've been practicing for this moment.'

'Something like that…' Prussia grumbled, catching a glance at the door whenever Russia's back was turned towards it. He had to somehow guide Russia towards the door - and when the time was right, make his escape.

'Haha… You amuse me, Prussia. That's why I'm keeping you here forever, because you're such a nice friend to have!' Russia chirped.

The door was close now, but not close enough. Freedom was only a hair's width away. Just a few more steps…

A sharp pain shot through his foot, causing him to cry out. He looked down to find it crushed under Russia's boot.

'But it would be foolish for you to try and leave me.' Russia glared at him coldly, although his voice remained high and sweet. 'Like you are doing now… I know Lithuania didn't lock the door. I noticed the way you looked at it. But I hoped you would not try to do something as silly as this…'

Russia gripped Prussia's hand tighter in his grasp, crushing it to the point where Prussia was sure a bone had been broken, his chance of escape gone. 'You were going to betray me.'

'So?' Prussia spat back at Russia. 'Bite me.' He said boldly, even though he knew Russia was one to take that statement literally. This guy only understood brute force and nothing else. Prussia would not simply be able to weasel his way out of his grasp. Fight was the only option left.

'Prussia, you know what happens to those who don't play nice…'

'And you know what happens to those who mess with the Great Preußen!' Prussia was just about to pummel Russia's face with his free hand and give this (potentially) last battle all he had, when a loud metal clang startled both of them, a vent grate rattling on the floor in front of them.

'Aaaagh!' Hungary yelled as she dropped down from the open vent in the ceiling. She swung a frying pan around wildly. Prussia ducked, the pan swinging past him and into Russia's face. Russia fell over, his body making a heavy thud as it hit the floor.

' _Mein Gott_ , were you trying to hit me or him?!'

'You should be thanking me! I came all the way here to rescue you.' Hungary wiped a spot of blood on the frying pan with her skirt.

 _Of all things to wear to a rescue mission, she still stuck with the skirt and apron._

'And I might have planned on 'accidentally' hitting you in the process.' She added quickly before whipping around to open the door. 'Anyway, let's get you out of here.'

Prussia couldn't help but smile a little as she turned her back to him. Perhaps his last battle had yet to come. 

* * *

**Yay! Hungary's back! Ah, I missed writing for her...**

 **By the way, if anyone's curious about what song Russia and Prussia are waltzing to, it's 'On the Hills of Manchuria' - one of my favorites of (perhaps too many) Russian folk songs that I like to listen to. The lyrics actually get kinda scary towards the end, you might wanna google search them - you won't be disapointed!**

 **And also, thank you to the guests who reviewed and helped me make a correction for the last chapter - I wish I could reply personally! But anyways, thank you!**


	8. Away you go

Hungary swung the door open and marched out, leaving Prussia to hurriedly follow with a slight limp. He was sure his foot was broken too, but he said nothing to Hungary. The two went up the stairs, Prussia awkwardly half-hopping so as to not put pressure on the one foot.

'What's wrong with your foot?' Hungary stopped midway up the stairs. 'Did Russia do that?'

'Yeah.' Prussia said reluctantly. Whilst he was thankful to have made it out of that room alive, he wasn't proud of the fact he had been pretty badly injured.

'Hm.' Hungary seemed to mull on this for a moment – for what reason Prussia was unsure of. He wanted to think it was because she was concerned, but it could have easily have also been because she was weighing up just how much this was hurting their chances of escape. 'It should heal in a bit, anyway.' she concluded before making her way up the last few steps.

 _Right…_ Except Prussia knew all too well that this wasn't the case with him. Slower healing was one of the many plights of an ex-nation…

'Why are you sighing?' Hungary asked, waiting for Prussia to hobble up the remaining steps.

'Eh? Um. No reason.' Prussia said. When he reached the top of the stairs, he looked around the hallway. It was odd, to say the least.

The hallway was a lengthy straight corridor with only two large mahogany doors, one on each end. There were no visual hints as to whether either one was an exit, but knowing Russia, only one of these could lead to their escape.

'So, which one?' Hungary asked.

'You're asking me? Shouldn't you know, Knight in Frilly Apron?'

Hungary clacked her tongue in annoyance. 'I came through the vents. And Lithuania wasn't exactly helpful on giving instructions for the way out.'

'Lithuania?'

'Yeah. He's the one who told me you were being held captive here.' Hungary looked around. 'Which reminds me, where is he? He should be helping us out.'

A loud clang from downstairs rang out, followed by a discord of voices. Prussia and Hungary froze.

'Poland, NO!'

'Let go of me, Liet! I said LET GO!'

'Aagh!'

Silence followed. Prussia looked to Hungary. Her eyes were fixed on the bottom of the stairs, as if expecting some terrible creature to appear.

The screeching sound of a knife grinding against something metallic echoed rhythmically, each time getting louder and louder.

'Hungary… I think that's a signal for us to leave.' Prussia hissed.

' _Halo,_ Prussia.' Poland grinned at the foot of the stairs. Hungary jolted and raised her frying pan. 'Liet told me you were going to, like, run away or something.'

' _Ja_ , I'm ditching this hell hole.' Prussia cackled. 'So suck it lose- ow!' Hungary pinched his arm and gave him a warning glare.

'We'll just be leaving now, Poland.' Hungary said coldly. 'No need for unnecessary bloodshed here…'

'Oh, I disagree!' Poland hopped up the stairs. 'You see, poor Liet here forgot that if you leave, Russia will totally eat us all for dinner tonight. And I am not letting that happen!'

Latvia, Estonia, and a guilty looking Lithuania stepped forward out of the darkness at the foot of the stairs, trembling hands holding glass shards.

'Lithuania!' Hungary scolded. 'I thought you were going to help us!'

'I'm trying, Hungary, I really am!' Lithuania cried. 'It's just… you know.' He indicated to Poland with a slight shake of the head.

'Mr. Russia will skin us alive if you leave!' Estonia said. 'Please understand!'

'Plus, what are we meant to do with all these stupid mirror shards?' Poland held up a gleaming wedge. 'Russia had us work, like, all day on this _'very important'_ task and then expects us to somehow make do with the mess it leaves behind?'

'He said we should just throw it out.' Latvia said.

' _Milczeć!_ I'm trying to, like, make a point here.' Poland snapped. He turned back to Prussia and Hungary, slowly making his way up the stairs. 'So why don't you two just get back into the room… before I get too carried away.' The shard glimmered menacingly in his hands.

Prussia wanted to burst into laughter, although he didn't know why. Perhaps it was the way Poland had taken his meager threat too seriously, his little mob trembling behind him. Or perhaps he was nervous, anticipating the execution of a newly formed escape plan.

Nervous? Or excited?

Either way, it didn't matter. He wasn't staying in this house any longer.

 _'_ _Leck mich!'_ Prussia shouted, grabbing Hungary's hand and making a run for one of the doors. He could hear Poland and the others scrambling behind him, and felt adrenaline rush through him as he approached the door.

' _Hülye_ , let go of me! I'll trip!' Hungary yelped, but Prussia gave no notice. Escape was so close, he just hoped to Old Fritz it was the right door.

 _Please let it be the right door._ He couldn't afford to make a mistake now.

He yanked the door open just as a mirror shard shot right past his ear, the hallway flooded with light as he did so.

'No! No, don't leave! Please!' Estonia wailed, but Prussia couldn't care less. They continued to run into the open field outside, eventually finding themselves among trees. They had long outrun Poland, and yet they still felt the need to get as far away as possible, urging them to keep going despite the burning ache in their legs.

Suddenly everything felt incredibly familiar, and the world around him became a surreal dreamlike place. The warmth of the afternoon sun on his neck, the brush of tree branches against him, the blood pumping hotly through his veins – somehow this had happened before. He turned to look at Hungary and felt realization stab him.

This was his dream.

'What are you looking at?' Hungary panted, her face flushed with exhilaration. It made her eyes look all the more vivid, and Prussia had to wonder if perhaps he had never escaped Russia's house. If perhaps he had never woken up to begin with.

Pain shot through his leg like a jolt of electricity, causing him to trip over and fall. Reality had caught up with him, assuring him this was no dream as euphoric adrenaline started to ebb away.

'Are you okay? You look pale.' Hungary extended her hand to him. He looked up at her and was tempted to drag her down with him. She would surely get annoyed with him, but that was exactly the fun of doing such a thing. Instead, he nodded curtly and took her hand. He got up and attempted to walk the pain off, but almost fell a second time had Hungary not caught him.

'You're not okay. We'll have to stop here for a bit.' Hungary guided him towards the shade of a large tree.

Prussia wanted to protest, insist that his leg was fine, but a small part of him kind of liked the idea of spending more time with Hungary. _Old Fritz would not be proud…_ Prussia thought with a sinking feeling. Letting an injury and an infatuation get the best of him? Not exactly admirable.

 _I'll make it up later… I don't know, maybe I'll clean West's house. And Japan's. Maybe Austria's too, but this time I'll throw away_ all _of his underpants and his shirts. Ha!_

'What are you laughing at?' Hungary looked at him curiously.

'Hm? Oh, uh… nothing.' Prussia withheld a chuckle. He would have to keep that idea to himself if he didn't want Hungary to come after him with a frying pan.

'I see…' Hungary said before pointing to the tree trunk. 'Sit. I need to take a look at your foot.'

'Why?'

'You know why.'

'But you don't have to.'

'Prussia, how do you think it's going to look if I return you to Germany with a mangled foot?' Hungary crossed her arms. '… Don't make me knock you out to do it.'

' _Ja_ , okay, fine!' Prussia exhaled noisily as he slumped at the base of the tree and took off his boot. His sock, conveniently white so that the blood was all the more visible, was soaked in red. He carefully removed it, trying to ignore the stinging pain as he did so.

Hungary sat down and gingerly took hold of his foot, examining the bruised purple flesh as her brows furrowed. She pursed her lips. That was not a good sign.

'It looks like it's been broken.'

 _More like crushed to a pulp,_ Prussia wanted to say, but decided against it.

'I'll have to bandage it for now. Hopefully you haven't lost too much blood to walk.'

Hungary proceeded to tear out a strip of cloth from her apron, which funnily enough, left a gap in the middle of the apron. Prussia burst out laughing.

'What's so funny?' Hungary fumed. 'I have to do this to stop the bleeding!'

Prussia struggled to speak coherently though his laughter, but somehow managed to get out the words 'crotch cloth'.

For a moment Hungary looked like she wanted to strangle him, her hand gripping the cloth tightly, until laughter seemed to catch on to her as well, her shoulders shaking convulsively. Her laugh chimed through the woods like a bell, leaving Prussia wondering why he had not tried to make her laugh sooner.

'It really is 'crotch cloth', isn't it?' She spoke between chortles, her head buried in her own lap. After a while, she took a deep breath and looked up, the flecks of hazel in her eyes now more prominent. Then, as if suddenly aware of her close proximity to Prussia, cast her eyes back down to his foot and started to wrap it in the cloth, her face flushing.

'There.' She finished wrapping the cloth around his foot. 'That should help stop the bleeding.' She stood up and offered her hand. 'Do you think you can walk? I'd prefer if we make it out of the forest before sundown.'

Prussia looked up at Hungary, panic rising in his chest. 'We can't leave. Fritz is still in there.'

'Who?'

'Fritz. My dog. Russia still has him.'

'Prussia, we're not going back.' Hungary dropped her hand. 'You've got a broken foot and there's a gang of knife wielding lunatics waiting for us. If we go back, we'll never come back out.'

'Fine, then.' Prussia stood up, holding on to the tree for support. 'I'll go on my own. I'm getting my dog back.' He made an unsteady step with one foot, intent on making his way back regardless of the searing pain.

'Don't be stupid!' Hungary grabbed his sleeve. 'You're coming with me, and I'm taking you home.'

'Why do you care?' Prussia yanked his arm away from her. 'I didn't ask for your help.'

'Because…!' Hungary stepped in front of him, attempting to block his path. 'I can't let you just go on a suicide mission! I won't allow it!'

'Really? And why is that?' Prussia side-stepped, Hungary following wordlessly. Damn stubborn woman wouldn't let him pass through. 'Tell me, then, if you care enough to not let me go back.'

Hungary stayed silent.

'You don't have to feel guilty if I die, if that's your concern.' Prussia said coldly as he side-stepped the other way, his foot almost giving way this time. Hungary followed.

'Hungary.' Prussia warned. 'Let me go.'

'Why do you always have to be such a selfish jerk!' Hungary blurted out.

'What's your problem?!' Prussia snapped back. 'I'm the one trying to save my dog from being skinned alive or worse and you're here standing in my way!'

'It's not about the dog, _hülye!_ '

'Oh, then what's it about? Am I ruining your little fairytale with Austria? Don't want a little blood on your hands for your wedding?' Prussia spat back.

'Don't be such a child! This isn't another one of your stupid battles for you to die gloriously in! You're not a nation anymore!'

A breath of silence fell, Hungary's features softening a little, perhaps regretting that last statement.

'…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that -'

'No, it's fine.' Prussia took a step back, expressionless. 'I'm not a nation anymore. And you're not Hungary anymore either. You're not a warrior. You're…. You…'

 _You belong to Austria now._

The words had never left his mouth. Hungary had grabbed his shoulders before he could, leaning her face towards him.

Their lips had barely touched when Prussia pushed her away, as if on some strange instinct. He could not let her do that. Not like he had done the day before, willing to accept her pitiful affections like some attention crazed dog. She had no right to do this to him. Tormenting him, taunting him. She probably thought she was helping him.

 _You only make it worse for me._

Hungary stepped back, her feet softly whispering against the forest floor. 'I'm sorry- I- I'll leave you alone, then.' She choked out as if having read his thoughts, snapping her head away from Prussia. By the time he realized there were tears in her eyes, she had already dashed away. He watched her run into the green depths of the forest vacantly, as if he was no longer Prussia, but the empty shell that had been left behind when he had decided to push her away.

 _Einsamkeit._ The word had once again defined him. But this time, it rang with familiarity and acceptance. Perhaps the Hungary in his dream was right. This feeling, this demon in his mind, was all but fed by his own decisions. He had always thought it followed him around like a dark cloud over his head, something that couldn't be helped. But it seemed he was the one to blame, after all.

He considered calling out to her, apologizing for shoving her away, but it was too late now. The damage was done. He was better off alone, anyway. No one could get hurt like this. Neither him nor Hungary.

When Hungary had disappeared into the forest, Prussia turned around slowly towards the path to Russia's house. He would go back to get Fritz. If he made it out alive, great. If not….

 _Death was long overdue, anyway._

He placed one foot in front of the other, shuffling through the leaves as his right foot screamed with searing pain at every step. It was unbearable almost, making Prussia feel a little queasy. But Fritz was waiting for him, and so he would keep going.

A tiny chirp sent his gaze up at the tree's branches, finding a yellow bird looking down at him with its beady little eyes.

 _Huh… kinda looks like the one Fritz ate…_

The bird hopped off the branch and fluttered to his shoulder, tweeting loudly into his ear. Why the bird had taken an interest in him, he did not know. He was glad, however, for the distraction as he limped through the woods, the pain still throbbing intensely in his foot. He could feel his consciousness start to slip away occasionally, and he needed to stay awake.

The bird clung on to his shoulder as he hobbled, the afternoon sunlight dimming down. His breath was getting ragged, and although he no longer took notice of his aching foot, his legs felt weak and fragile, as if they might snap and give way at any moment. He so badly wanted to collapse onto the ground, to drift away.

 _Just a little rest is all you need…_ The breeze seemed to whisper to him. Yes, perhaps some rest to regain his strength would be good. Just for a bit…

His legs bent effortlessly and his entire body crumpled onto the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Purple splotches clouded his vision, and all but the chirp of a bird began to fade away.

 _Away you go…_ The bird seemed to say as he fell into darkness. 

* * *

**Ah, what have I done to dear Prussia?! I think I broke him... And Hungary, too.  
Anyways, thank you for last chapter's reviews, I know you guys were so happy for Hungary to come back - and now I probably just shattered your PruHun hopes and dreams XD But the battle is not over yet! Stay tuned for the next chapter, which let me tell you, is one hell of a ride...  
**


	9. International Mafia Federation

**By the way, when I said this chapter was going to be 'one hell of a ride', I meant it literally. I also wrote it quite some time ago, when the only thing the news was talking about was Greece and the IMF and 'Grexit' and all these scary economic things – and being half-Greek myself, I just couldn't help but make a little side quest for Prussia regarding this!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

'Spain, turn that crap off.' An ill-tempered voice growled. Prussia furrowed his brows, shutting his eyes tighter. He was trying to rest, dammit. Not to mention, the ground was shaking strangely, and there was some obnoxiously loud music thrumming in the background.

'But why? It's Shakira.' A bright voice chirped.

'Doesn't mean it's good.'

Prussia groaned and buried his head further into something soft. It felt like a pillow, but it was warm. It was certainly not a pile of dead leaves, as he might expect from a forest floor, but he was too drowsy to comprehend this – let alone do something about it.

'No, but she's _muy caliente –_ aagh!' The ground seemed to swerve underneath Prussia, a screeching sound making his head feel as if it were being stabbed by a hot knife.

'Romano,' the chirpier voice changed its tone to one of a patronizing superior. 'You _cannot_ head butt me when I'm driving!'

'You deserved it.' The other voice grumbled.

'Ay, Romano, what did I do?'

'Nothing, just… drive faster, _cazzo!_ France fell asleep on me and I want him off, but he won't let go of me when I push him away.' Romano whined. 'Fucking pervert won't give up even when he sleeps…'

'Maybe he's not sleeping.' A quiet, almost mumbling voice spoke.

'Hohoho… You got me.' France said.

'Aagh!' Romano shrieked. 'You _fucking-_ '

A cacophony of voices burst out, the ground swerving underneath Prussia once again. He groggily opened his eyes, pissed because these clowns were keeping him from getting much needed rest. His massive headache was not helping either.

'How was your nap?' A soft voice spoke. Prussia lifted his head up, startled to find that he had been asleep in Greece's lap. He scrambled up – immediately regretting it when his foot painfully reminded him of the heavy boot that had crushed it. He was in the back of a yellow pick-up truck, rapidly making its way down a narrow dirt road that was lined on both sides by dense forest.

Spain turned around and opened the mini-window. ' _Buenos dias_ , Prussia! How are you feeling?'

'What am I doing here?' Prussia asked, wondering if Hungary was by any chance looking for him. He doubted this was the case.

'We found you passed out in the forest, and we almost thought you were dead! You looked like a zombie until Greece helped us patch you up. What were you doing there, _mi amigo_?'

'I was er…' Prussia winced. It hurt to even think. 'I was looking for my dog. Russia captured him.'

'I'm sorry to hear that.' Spain apologized. Behind him Prussia could see a fork in the road. It was distant, but the truck was quickly approaching. 'We can help you get your dog back, if you want.' Spain said with a sunny smile radiating on his face, unaware of the danger just ahead.

'Eyes on the road, _bastardo!'_ Romano yelled.

'Ah, _lo siento!_ ' Spain whipped around and made a sudden right turn. Prussia sighed lightly. It was a wonder that this guy was still alive today. Spain seemed to dance throughout life with a blindfold on, optimistic that the cliff edge that might lie ahead was but only a little step down. Prussia sat back and smiled to himself. He had missed Spain and France.

 _It's nice to be back._

'Prussia,' Greece said quietly, his energy conserved as always. 'Are you homeless?'

'What?' Prussia looked at Greece curiously, who was tilting his head slightly in concern. 'No, I'm not _homeless._ '

'Japan and I will gladly let you stay with us.'

 _Just how dense can this guy get?_ Prussia thought, until he was distracted by the hum of another car behind them. It was a black Jeep, its windows tinted that so he couldn't see the driver. He might just be paranoid, but there was something unsettling about it.

'No, that's okay. I'm really not homeless.' Prussia turned back to Greece.

'In Greece we call this gesture _φιλοξενία_.' Greece continued as if on auto-pilot.

'Aha…' Prussia nodded absent-mindedly. It seemed nothing Prussia could say would stop him from talking. He looked back to find that there were three Jeeps behind them now. _Where did they come from?_

'It means hospitality.'

'Really….' Two motorcyclists emerged from the tree-lined edge of the road, wearing bulky bullet proof vests.

Greece followed Prussia's gaze and his typically serene expression was shaken up by alarm. ' _A_ _ς_ _στο διάολο!_ ' He got up and knocked frantically onto the back window. 'They're here, they found us! _Γαμώτο!_ ' He spat out that last word with particular vehemence.

'What's going on?' Prussia asked. Greece didn't answer, shuffling through a black duffel bag wordlessly.

Romano opened the window with an irritable glare, until he saw the hoard of menacing Jeeps. ' _Cazzo!_ ' He turned to Spain and shoved him in the shoulder. 'I told you not to take the yellow pick-up truck, _idiota!'_

' _Por qué?_ What's wrong with it?'

'Because its _fucking_ yellow and they could spot us from the _fucking_ moon if they wanted to and now we're _fucking screwed!'_ Romano yelled, his face flushing.

'Aw, you're face looks like a little to-'

' _Chiudi il culo!_ Just get us out of here!'

Greece got up on one knee and raised a black rifle, aiming at the motorcyclists. ' _Eλευθερία ή θάνατος!_ ' He cocked the gun and fired, a bang echoing and leaving a high-pitched ring in Prussia's ears. Further shots resounded, this time from the motorcyclists.

' _Scheiße!'_ Prussia exclaimed.

'Greece, you idiot! Now they're firing back!' Romano shrieked.

'Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here!?' Prussia looked to France, who seemed to be the only composed one in the car.

'Mm?' France looked up from filing his nails – of all things to be doing at such a time – and spoke calmly, as if reporting the news. 'Ah, yes… we're being chased by the International Mafia Federation.'

'You mean International Money-grabbing Fuckers.' Romano added bitterly.

'I'm trying to be unbiased here, _mon cherie.'_

'What the _fuck_ did you just call me?! _'_ Romano spat.

'Romano, take over the wheel.' Spain interjected, his expression grave. 'I need to help Greece.' Spain climbed halfway out the window and raised a pistol, taking aim at the cars behind them.

'Spain, you bastard, what are you doing?!' Romano yelped, grabbing onto the wheel and trying to keep it steady, although his hands were shaking uncontrollably.

'Why are they chasing us?!' Prussia ducked down, wondering what in hell's name they had done to get into this much trouble.

France stuck his head out of the mini-window. 'Euh… I believe it's because Greece, Spain and Romano owe them money. A lot of it…'

A figure rose up from the top window in one of the jeeps and swung out an AK-47, bullets flying toward them with metallic clangs.

'What about you?' Prussia asked.

'Hm?' France blinked at Prussia. ' _Non, non!_ I don't owe them money. I just thought a road trip would be nice…'

'Prussia, throw me that cartridge.' Greece said, his eyes coldly aiming at the figure at the top of the Jeep. Prussia hurriedly handed the cartridge to him, watching his demeanor with some fascination. For once, he looked neither spaced out nor lazy. His usually half-lidded eyes were wide-open, and his large but lackadaisical stature had become rigid and precise. He looked like a warrior.

The car swerved wildly, almost knocking Greece off his balance.

'Romano, what are you doing?!' Spain yelled, nearly toppling out of the window.

'I can't do this! Spain, I don't want to die!' Romano wailed, his entire body shivering like a terrified kitten.

Spain chuckled. 'You're so cute when you're honest, Romano! But don't worry! Boss will take care of it! Just make sure you keep the car on the road, okay? _Yo te protegere, sí?_ '

'Okay…' Romano sniffled, cowardice having made him suddenly more docile. 'Um… Spain?'

'Yes, Romano?' Spain took a shot at one of the motorcycles, successfully hitting its tire, the motorcyclist veering off the road and tumbling into the bushes with a loud screech.

'I think this is a dead end.'

'What are you talking abou-' Spain looked at the cliff edge ahead. ' _Dios mio!_ Romano, turn the car around! TURN THE CAR AROUND!'

'I can't! There's nowhere to go!' Romano cried. 'We're trapped! _Faranno catturano e ci torturano finché stiamo sanguinando ai nostri occhi!_ _Noi siamo morti! Noi siamo morti!'_ He whimpered in rapid Italian, the car heading for the edge with high speed.

'Someone stop the car!' Prussia yelled. This was a stupid, pointless way to die.

Spain pushed a sobbing Romano to the side and took the driver's seat. He slammed the brake pedal and spun the wheel to the right.

Unfortunately, it had been too late by then.

The pick-up truck skidded across the cliff edge speedily, and within seconds the vehicle was spinning in mid-air. Prussia, who had no time to brace himself for this and hold on to something, was sent flying off the back of the pick-up truck along with Greece. The two flailed in the air, the pick-up truck descending beneath them. There was a moment where all Prussia could see was the expanse of the bright blue sky, wind rushing by his ears.

 _This is it._ Prussia thought. _I'm gonna die._

He had always thought his death would come with acceptance, his peace made with everything he had done in his life – even the terrible things he had done. But instead, he felt raw guilt gnawing at him, burning up in his chest. All he could think about was how he could have done better – how he _should_ have done better. He felt bad for not getting to Fritz sooner. For not spending enough time with West. For being such a dick, sometimes. For being someone's worst enemy, when he should have been their friend. He felt bad for being so cruel to Hungary.

 _I have been…totally unawesome._

He felt his decent accelerate, the clear sky now becoming framed by the tops of dark trees. Prussia shut his eyes in expectation of impact, until he crashed into cold water. His body rose up to the surface, Prussia gulping in air – more so out of pure relief than anything else. He felt a pair of arms drag him out of the water and set him onto the pool edge.

He was once again staring into an empty blue sky, until Greece's face leaned into his view. Prussia lay there for a while, dazed and unable to move.

'Are you going to get up?' Greece spoke softly. 'Or maybe mouth-to-mouth resuscitation is necessary?'

'N-no, that's okay.' Prussia sat up hurriedly.

'In Greece we call this _το φιλή_ _της_ _ζ_ -'

' _Ja_ , that's real nice, Greece.' Prussia interrupted him. 'Where are the others?' There was no pick-up truck in sight.

Greece shrugged. 'Perhaps they did not make it.'

'Don't say things like that. They have to be around here somewhere.' Prussia stood up on legs that felt like jelly. 'I think I can even hear Romano crying somewhere.' He looked around for the source of the faint sound, peering in the forested distance behind the pool.

'Maybe Romano's soul was so poor and indebted that he could not pay for the ferry ride to the underworld, and he is stuck on the bank of the river Styx.'

Prussia gave Greece a questioning look.

'Okay, so maybe I don't really believe that.' Greece mumbled. 'But it's nice to entertain my mother's beliefs every once in a while…'

'You really are an odd one, Greece.'

' _Ευχαριστό_ _.'_ Greece smiled.

 _Right…_ Prussia puffed out a breath of air, looking around him and wondering where he had seen this place before. The house by the pool was particularly familiar, but he could not quite put his finger on whose it was. It was incredibly ornate and detailed, and there was an air of arrogance about it…

'Prussia, I found them.' Greece tapped his shoulder. 'Look.' He pointed up to a giant pine tree hanging over the pool. Between its branches, a battered yellow pick-up truck was wedged, its occupants climbing out its windows.

'We're okay, Prussia! No need to worry!' Spain smiled cheerily as he clambered out of the window, Romano and France following hesitantly. Somehow, even with the circumstances as they were, the Spaniard was still glad to be alive.

Prussia felt a chuckle escape his throat, partly out of relief, and partly because the five of them had just been catapulted into the air after been chased by IMF thugs and survived. He too, was glad to be alive.

'What the fuck are you laughing at, _cazzo?!_ ' Romano snapped, although his voice was trembling. The branches beneath the truck groaned and started to bend ever so slightly. Romano yelped.

Spain dropped into the pool, France following shortly after with a second splash. 'Come on, Romano. Jump!' Spain yelled.

'…I can't do it.'

'Sure you can! Come on! It's only water!'

'But it's so far down…' Romano peered at the pool, his legs slipping against the car door. Another groan from the tree. The car was slowly sliding off the branches. 'Aagh! Spain, _salvami! Salvami, per favore!'_ Romano started to whimper in frantic Italian.

'Ay… Romano, you'll just have to do this on your own. I can't help you from down here.'

' _Bastardo!_ I'm asking for your help!'

'Someone's coming.' Greece said.

'Hm?' Prussia turned around to see Austria slide open the glass door leading into the pool area, and he suddenly realized why the place was so familiar. _Scheiße._ What would he do this time around when he finds out there's perhaps the ugliest pick-up truck stuck in his garden? He'd already stirred trouble at Austria's house once before in the past two days. There wouldn't be any patience left in the pretentious bastard.

'Spain, France, hide!' He hissed. 'And tell Romano to shut up!' He whipped around to face the angry Austrian. Perhaps Austria wouldn't notice the truck? He hoped this was the case.

'What is going on here?!' Austria glared at Prussia and Greece with a bewildered look. 'And why are you wet?'

'You have a very nice pool, Austria.' Greece said and nodded appreciatively before Prussia could say anything reasonable or passable as an excuse.

Austria gave Greece a vexed look before turning to Prussia. 'Is this your way of trying to apologize, Prussia? Because I don't see any other reason for you to be here.'

Just looking at this stupid aristocrat's face had hauled up to the surface feelings of frustration and anger, but there was another feeling, too. He was reminded of how despite his hatred, he had always taken pride in this rivalry – in some strange way. He wanted to cackle and taunt Austria. To boast of his pure awesomeness and make the whole world know he was the Great Preußen, and that no one could possibly match his magnificence! To start fights just for the heck of it, because there was no greater joy than to claim glorious victory and dance upon the tear soaked ground of your enemy!

 _But…_

Prussia knew this was all really a façade, a mask he had worn for most of his life. Sure, he had at some point deluded himself into believing he was truly the greatest there was, but there was always part of him that knew this was not so. He was after all, no longer the nation he once was. Gone were the days of grand military conquest and prestige – such notions did not belong here anymore. He was now East Germany, a part of the modern world. It was time he started acting like it.

'Actually… yes.' Prussia looked at Austria squarely in the eyes. 'I came to apologize to you.'

 _I can't believe I'm doing this…_

'I… I…uh…. did some pretty bad stuff to you in the past and uh…. I shouldn't have because… that was bad… and…' The words were stuck in his throat, as if his body would not allow him to say such things even on a primal level. Prussia took a deep breath and continued. 'That's why I'm…uh…sorry.' He mumbled out the last word reluctantly.

 _God, this is humiliating._

Austria stood there, once again confused. Prussia could help but feel just a little victorious. Sure, he had apologized and surrendered is some sense… but look at that face! It almost made this pathetic apology worth it. Almost.

'Prussia, I'll admit…' Austria took of his glasses to clean them with a frilly white cloth that he pulled out of his breast pocket. 'I really did not expect you to say that.' He placed his glasses back on delicately, his composure somewhat restored by this. 'Perhaps I was wrong about you.'

 _Perhaps you were!_ Prussia smiled gently, although he struggled to keep it from blooming into a full-fledged grin. _Old Fritz would be proud, right?_ It was about time he had started to reap the benefits of diplomacy. He was more than just a war-monger.

His eye caught a figure standing in one of the upstairs windows. It was Hungary, having watched this entire ordeal. He did not have the chance to read her expression, as she quickly pulled the curtains closed.

 _Hungary…_ He wanted to call out to her, to set things straight. To somehow amend his stupidly cruel actions. Of all people, it was Hungary who deserved his apology the most.

'Prussia,' Austria spoke, bringing Prussia's attention back to the face that he still detested. 'Why don't you have dinner with us tonight? Think of it as my apology, for kicking you out the other day.' Austria smiled softly. Prussia could tell it was forced, but the man was too polite to do otherwise.

' _Ja_. I would like that.' Prussia nodded, more so in hopes of seeing Hungary than spending the evening with this stuck-up aristocrat.

'Good. It is set then.' Austria said. 'How about eight –' He was interrupted by Romano's high-pitched shriek, followed by a loud splash. A wave of water crashed onto Austria. Prussia whipped around to find the yellow pick-up truck sinking into the pool, the water bubbling as it descended.

'Romano!' Spain jumped out of the bushes and dove into the pool to retrieve a spluttering and terrified Romano. He dragged him onto the pool edge. ' _Gracias a Dios!_ You're alive!' He hugged Romano around the neck tightly.

'It's your fault I almost drowned, _idiota!_ ' Romano fumed, coughing out water as he spoke.

'I know, I know! I promise I won't take the yellow pick-up truck next time and I won't leave you in the truck when it's hanging up in a tree and I'll try to swim faster-'

Austria watched as the truck sank to the very bottom of the pool, the last of the bubbles making their way up to the surface. His eyes hardened and his face contorted into a familiar scowl. 'Prussia…' He growled.

 _Fuck._ He really did it this time.

Well, technically none if it was really his fault, but seeing as how Austria was stabbing him with a pointed glare, it seemed it was up to Prussia to fix this somehow.

 _Here it goes again…_

A sheepish grin spread across his face. 'Sorry…?'

An apology, however, would simply not cut it. This much, Prussia knew.

* * *

 **Hehe... so much fun writing this chapter! Also, I can't be bothered to translate some of these phrases :P Most of them are kind of obvious like bastardo or idiota, but if anyone's curious about any other ones - google is your friend! Or you can just ask me, I will be happy to answer.**


	10. Blue Night Waltz

'…As for the exact payment for compensation regarding the pool, we can discuss it at a later date - as long as we can both agree that some kind of payment is required. Isn't that so, Prussia?'

'Hm?' Prussia looked up from an untouched plate of stuffed chicken and… some green lettuce-like stuff. Probably something expensive and bitter. An 'acquired taste'- as Austria might put it. Why Austria had even bothered to invite him over was beyond him, especially after being (barely) responsible for putting a yellow pick-up truck in his pool. He could only assume it was Austria's high-class way of badgering Prussia into paying him. Not that Prussia had ever intended to do that. An apology was more than enough for this pretentious bastard. 'What was that?' He asked, although he vaguely knew what had just been said.

Austria huffed out lightly, as if only mildly irritated by this. 'Oh… nothing. We can talk about it later.' He took a sip of his red wine, his mask of feigned amusement threatening to crack. Had Hungary not been sitting next to him, he might have lashed out at Prussia in that moment.

Prussia glanced at Hungary, her eyes staring vacantly into her glass of wine – still filled up to the rim. Prussia returned his gaze to his plate, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach. He looked at the chicken on his plate and felt sick.

 _You're a selfish child,_ she seemed to say, although her mouth was set in a sullen line.

He pushed his food around on his plate, trying to ignore the snakes that had begun to wrap around his chest, slowly squeezing…

 _All you do is cause trouble wherever you go!_

His eyes drifted dizzyingly to the hem of Hungary's dress beneath the glass surface of the table. He noted the intricate stitches on the fabric, the crinkled and muddy edges of the frilly hem. And yet, all he could see was Hungary and her sorrowful eyes, the once vibrant emeralds dimming into a murky, heart-broken olive green.

 _Why can't you just be a decent human being?_

'You didn't enjoy your meal?' Austria asked. Prussia's head snapped up, finding both Austria's and Hungary's plates empty.

'…I wasn't hungry.' Prussia said dryly.

An uncomfortable silence fell between the three of them. Hungary rose out of her chair abruptly. 'Let me take the plates in, Austria.'

'Oh, no. You don't have to-' Austria had started to say. Hungary swiftly collected the plates before he could finish, leaving behind the wine glasses and hurriedly making her way out of the dining area. It had been the only time she had spoken this evening.

Austria poured himself another glass of wine, his face slightly flushed – presumably because this was now his third glass. Prussia did not say anything, his eyes following Hungary out of the room, wondering if he should go after her or not.

'She's been oddly quiet today…' Austria took a sip, his voice gentler than it had been before. 'But she wouldn't say a word of what happened yesterday…' He seemed to mull on this as he looked into his glass pensively. Then, as if only just realizing Prussia was there, he looked up from his wine. 'She told me she had gone out to spend the day with Liechtenstein.' He said matter-of-factly.

Prussia blinked, unsure of what to say to that. Was Austria confiding in him? Or was this merely the words of a drunken man spilling out? He stayed quiet. He had to be careful, regardless.

'I know. I know what you're thinking.' Austria chuckled half-heartedly, taking another gulp of his wine. 'What a fool I am to believe that! I realize it now. Something's been bothering her.' He swirled his wine contemplatively, then suddenly deciding to pour some more into his glass. 'But I just can't think of anything I've done to upset her…'

Austria took a sip and set the glass on the table, bursting into a pitiful laughter once again. 'I'm sorry. The wine must be getting to me. I don't normally speak so openly…' He drawled out the words sleepily, resting his head on one hand. He sat like these for a while, eyes hazily studying Prussia in an odd way, a drunken smile on his face. 'Perhaps you'd like to help me get into bed? I don't think I can make it up the stairs…' He dropped his head onto the table, shoulders shaking as he giggled.

Prussia got up from his chair. He had seen enough. 'I need to go use the bathroom.'

'Oh, sure!' Austria waved his hand dismissively, his head still resting on the glass surface of the table. 'Go on ahead! You know where it is… but come back, okay? I'll just be here, drinking this… stuff!' Another amused giggle from Austria escaped his lips.

Prussia left the dining room and entered a dimly lit hallway. He spotted the kitchen doorway, the sound of plates clinking and water running echoing out from it. He walked into the room, his boots clacking against the linoleum. Hungary paused for a moment, only to resume washing the dishes without a single word.

'Hungary…?' Prussia approached, unsure of what he had even come here to say. He knew vaguely what he felt, but the words were muddled up in his mind, unable to make any coherent thought. He could only stand there and hope the words would somehow piece themselves together, if only Hungary was willing to listen. He took a step closer, but she did not turn around.

'Hungary, I-'

'I went to look for your dog, afterwards.' Hungary croaked out abruptly, as if she had been holding her breath the entire evening. 'I checked Russia's house, every inch of it. I even asked Lithuania. There was no dog there.'

 _She… went back?_

Hungary stayed quiet, only the sound of hot water rushing out of the tap filling the silence. Prussia took another step forward.

'…I didn't know.' Prussia had started to say. How could he have assumed she would have just walked away from that forest? Of course Hungary would go back and look for Fritz, even after he had pushed her away. He was stupid to think otherwise. 'Look, Hungary, I…'

'I'm sorry.' Hungary said softly, steam rising up from the sink. Prussia furrowed his brow.

'What do you mean 'I'm sorry'? I'm the one who should be apologizing.'

'It was silly of me to try and…I thought maybe you…' Hungary hesitated, her voice on the verge of breaking. Prussia stepped to her side, to try and read her expression, only to find her hands directly underneath the boiling hot water.

'Hungary!' He yanked her hands away. ' _Mein Gott,_ what are you doing!?' He looked directly into her eyes, trying to glean from them what she could have possibly been thinking.

She looked back at him with widened eyes, the color in her irises no longer the green Prussia had once seen in them. It was as if the vibrant forest in her gaze had wilted and faded away.

 _This is my fault._ Prussia thought with an ache in his chest. How could he have been so cruel to her?

Hungary's expression softened, averting her eyes away from him 'I know you're trying to make me feel better, Prussia, but I don't need you to do this.' She gently pulled her scalded hands away. 'Please, just… leave me alone, okay? Please?'

'That's not what I'm- you don't understand-' Prussia tried to get a hold of her hands again, to get her to look at him. _I was the idiot, not you. I'm the one who should be burning his hands. Who should be miserable. Who should be apologizing. Not you._ But the words were stuck in his throat.

'Austria needs me right now, Prussia.' Hungary dried her hands with a towel, wincing as she did so. She threw the towel onto a chair and walked out of the kitchen, not a single glance in his way. 'Goodnight.'

He was left standing there, alone and speechless.

That night the rain had returned to haunt him once again. It pattered on the window quietly, and yet somehow the noise would not let him sleep. Perhaps what made it worse was the thought that he was sleeping in Austria's house, despite all that had happened in the past few days. He was back to square one. Hungary hated him. Austria hated him - and yet he was wrapped around their little fingers, entertaining their thoughts of peace and cooperation but continuing to wreak havoc whenever he was around. It was like an old habit that needed breaking. Badly.

Worst of all, when his eyes finally did manage to close, he was greeted by Hungary's teary eyes and her marred hands. 'I'm sorry', she would say over and over again, and it seemed like each time she said it a knife stabbed him. He tried to ignore it, tell himself he would make it all better tomorrow, that he would make it right soon – but tomorrow just wasn't soon enough. He looked over at the clock by the bed. It was 2 a.m., Hungary's knife having struck through him enough times to bleed him out and pronounce him dead.

He twisted and turned amidst the silky sheets, eventually throwing them off in frustration. There was another noise too, a melody of some kind, echoing hauntingly throughout the house like a sorrowful spirit. Prussia knew it was probably Austria's drunken piano playing, the notes somehow still perfect and crisp, and this only irritated him further.

He got up and walked to the bathroom in the dark, shutting the door behind him and switching on the light with his eyes averted away from the mirror. He splashed cold water onto his face and dried it, still not daring to look up at his own reflection although he knew it to be a foolish fear.

 _It's not like he'll be there again._

He knew this to be true, and yet the hesitance was still there. What would he see this time? Perhaps the same broken man, his pitiful smile mocking him. But surely if that was the case, Prussia would laugh right back at him – laugh at the ridiculousness of einsamkeit and all the unreasonable paranoia that came with it. None of it was ever real. Einsamkeit wasn't some dark cloud that hung over him, and Prussia was certainly not a victim of it – because Prussia was the dark cloud. Giving loneliness a fancy name and treating it like some age old curse... what a joke! Yes, he would laugh at the broken man, and he would tell him this.

Feeling more courageous now – and a little silly for being afraid of the mirror – he lifted his face from the towel and gazed at his own reflection. A tired young man stared back at him, his face unscathed, arms unbandaged. There were, however, multiple bruises scattered here and there, particularly on the one hand that Russia had held and crushed. Exhausted, weary looking eyes glared back. He was, in a way, not all that different from the other man after all.

He leaned into the mirror, watching for any slight movements that weren't his own. 'You there?' He asked, immediately thinking it was a stupid question to ask. Of course he wasn't there. This was just one of Austria's overpriced fancy mirrors - nothing more, nothing less.

He flattened out his ruffled hair, giving up when several cowlicks refused to cooperate. Sighing, he shut the light and walked out of the bathroom. In the hallway, the melody of the piano grew louder and more present, drawing Prussia to the landing of the stairway. He was tempted to go down and watch Austria play. Perhaps in that moment he would finally understand what Hungary saw in the pretentious bastard. Curious, he made his way downstairs, his socked feet barely making any noise on the steps.

He walked across the marbled floor, the downstairs area almost completely dark had it not been for the moonlight streaming in through the windows. He stopped beneath an arch, spotting Austria in the center of a large hall, gracefully moving his hands across the piano freely and with fluid-like movement. His back was turned to Prussia, and so he did not hear or see him, continuing to play without interruption. Prussia hated to admit it… but it was beautiful.

'What are you doing here?'

Prussia whipped around to find Hungary's confused expression, her eyes still empty as they were before.

'… I just came down to listen.' He answered softly, not wanting Austria to hear. 'I couldn't sleep.' He could only assume this was the case with Hungary as well.

'Ah.' Hungary nodded, her gaze still not daring to look Prussia in the eyes. She turned to leave.

'Wait.' Prussia took hold of her arm. 'Stay for a bit.'

'Why?'

'Because!' Prussia blurted out, his mind starting to fray and unravel, the words once again becoming a tangled mess. '… You never let me finish what I wanted to say.'

'I told you, Prussia.' She pulled her arm away. 'I don't need this. It was embarrassing enough what happened, I don't need you pitying –'

'Dammit, just let me say it!' Prussia hissed, not even caring if the pretentious bastard would hear anymore. 'I… I'm not pitying you. And what I'm about to say has nothing to do with me feeling sorry for you. It's… I…' He fumbled with the words, his mind starting to go blank as Hungary's eyes looked at him expectantly. 'Back in the forest, I was just being stupid and… thick-headed – I didn't think you meant to… I thought maybe you just felt bad for me. I'm sorry for pushing you away. I was an idiot to do that. But I…. I…' He spluttered, feeling like an utter fool, his face feeling as if it was on fire. Hungary waited quietly, her brows furrowed in puzzlement.

 _Dammit, I'm trying to say that I–_

Prussia, not feeling the courage to say such a thing, pulled Hungary closer to him, melding his lips onto hers. He felt Hungary's shoulders relax, her delicate frame leaning into the kiss. Suddenly, no words were needed. Everything he felt, and everything she felt, was finally spoken in this one gesture.

When they finally pulled away, Hungary looked straight into his eyes for a moment, the green in her eyes shining vibrantly like what Prussia had long ago called basil jewels, or even that strange mouthful of a word… greediantacular, was it? She broke into a chuckle, as if having read the thought in his expression, leaning her head on Prussia's shoulder.

'What are you laughing at?' Prussia asked, alarmed that perhaps he had done everything wrong, completely misread the situation. Humiliation started to burn in his mind.

'I… I don't really know.' Hungary hummed, unable to control the bubbling laughter sprouting from this strange turn of events. 'I guess I'm just happy.'

'Oh.' Prussia felt relief sweep over him, hesitantly putting his arms around her shoulders. 'Y-yeah. Me, too.' There was a pause before Hungary burst out breathlessly.

'I'm such a melodramatic idiot! I can't believe I made you go through all that…'

'Hey, now. I thought we just established that I was the idiot.'

'Then we're both idiots.' Hungary lifted up her face and kissed Prussia once more. The music suddenly paused. She pulled back, her eyes looking at something behind Prussia.

'What is it?' Prussia turned around, finding Austria staring at them from the piano. For a moment the two stared at each other, until Austria eventually scoffed, turned around, and resumed his piano playing. An angry waltz began to echo throughout the hall, and Prussia liked to think that perhaps that was Austria's reluctant way of accepting them. He turned to Hungary and smiled. 'Care to dance?'

Hungary raised an eyebrow questioningly. 'You? Prussia? Dancing?'

'Yes, I can _dance_.' Prussia put his hand on Hungary's waist and held her hand with the other. 'Don't act so surprised.'

'Show me then.' She put her hand on his shoulder.

With one step, Prussia and Hungary set off into a gliding motion, spinning around on the gleaming moonlit floor of the hall. Hungary's dress swayed and swept across the floor, Prussia's feet carefully but confidently moving along with her. His foot ached with each step, but every sting and stab was worth it. In an almost dream-like trance, the two danced in harmony with the trills and chimes of the piano. Hungary's smile illuminated the room, making any last remnants of einsamkeit dissipate into the air. Prussia chuckled.

'My dancing is beyond awesome, isn't it?' He grinned.

'Prussia, please.' Hungary feigned an irritated look. 'Don't ruin the moment.'

'With my awesomeness?'

'Yes, with your awesomeness.'

The music came to an end with a final note, perhaps too abruptly.

'Austria, what are you doing?' Hungary said disappointedly. 'Keep playing!'

'I'll run out of waltzes eventually…' Austria grumbled with a slight slur, picking up a new melody on the piano.

Prussia felt his chest swell with excitement, the feeling strangely unfamiliar. He could not recount the last time he had felt like this, as if the whole world was his. But all that mattered was that he felt it now, in this moment. He was no longer victory-obsessed Prussia, lonely and prideful. He was now East Germany, still awesome and in love.

Of course, the battle wasn't over yet. Fritz was somewhere out there, waiting for him. But at least Prussia wouldn't have to face his obstacles alone. Not anymore.

* * *

 **Two more chapters left!  
** **On another note, isn't drunk Austria such a darling? I think he should drink wine more often. So much spills out of that pretty little mouth of his haha...  
** **Also, shout-out to guest reviewer Abc - whom I wish I could reply to personally! - thank you so much for your review on the IMF chapter, it made me smile when I read it! And yes, I did make up the acronym. I had others too! Here's one I almost ended up using: Intervention on Mediterranean Failures. I thought it was a little harsh though, so I left it :P  
** **Anyways, stay tuned for the next chapter!**


	11. I was waiting for this moment

**Reading your reviews to the last chapter was so lovely~  
** **Also, Abc, I will gladly indulge you with some more lame acronyms! There were only two others that I made, Internally Malfunctioning Fraternity and Institute of Monetary Fuck-ups. I spent a good half hour coming up with those. Not sure if its time well-spent, though... XD  
Anyways, on with the penultimate chapter!  
**

* * *

Prussia leant his head onto the door with a sigh and knocked wearily onto the wood, all of his energy having been drained out of him. It had been several days now that he had been looking for Fritz, and having exhausted nearly every possible location more than twice, he had started to think with an ache in his heart that it was perhaps too late. Fritz may have just run away, or have been taken by someone, or even worse…

 _Don't think of such things. He's around here somewhere, he has to be._

The door lurched forward, causing Prussia to stumble and almost bump into England, who stood at the doorway – wearing the same fatigued and irritated look on his face that Prussia had seen on him the last time he was here. Only this time, it was visibly worse. England's face was pale, dark circles underlining his eyes. His shirt was untucked, incorrectly buttoned, and bore a yellow stain on the shoulder. His hair was greasy and uncombed. He looked like a train wreck.

'Ah. Morning, Prussia.' England's eyes widened, placing the small towel he was holding onto his shoulder and brushing the hair out of his eyes.

'Morning?' Prussia looked at him questioningly, glancing at his watch to check.

'Yeah, isn't it…?' England trailed off, peering at Prussia's watch, a small gasp escaping his lips. 'Crikey, how the hell is it four in the afternoon already?! God, I swear I just woke up an hour ago…' England rubbed his temple sorely, squeezing his eyes shut with exhaustion. 'How much did I even get to sleep last night? Two, three hours? Bloody hell…'

'Let me guess, taking care of little America is harder than you thought, _ja_?' Prussia chuckled, remembering just how ecstatic England was a couple days ago to have younger America back, and now here he was, fed up already.

'Oh, no! God, no! America's been great!' England forced a weak smile. 'It's just that he's not quite as self-sufficient as I remember him being… I had to get up to feed him five times last night! He's got quite the appetite!' England forced a weak chuckle, almost as if he was too worn out to laugh. 'But, no… he's been great.'

Prussia nodded, although he was sure his expression was betraying him, England instantly reading the skepticism on his face and sighing. 'I'm not fooling anyone, am I?' He leant against the door frame, looking as if he was almost ready to fall asleep on it. 'To be honest, though, it's been tough. Hellish, even… Prussia, I don't know what –'

A piercing wail interrupted him, dread falling over England's tired face. He ran a hand through his messy hair and exhaled loudly. 'He must be hungry again. Just sit down in the living room. I'll be back in a second.' England left the door, muttering something along the lines of America deliberately punishing him and hurried away into the room from which the crying had come from.

Prussia stepped into the house, shutting the door behind him. The house was warm – a little stuffy – but comfortable. There was a sweet and somewhat familiar scent in the air, too - the smell of honeysuckle, among other scents he couldn't quite identify. Standing here by the entrance, had it not been for the wailing of little America, you wouldn't have been able to tell the house was inhabited by a frazzled and restless man with a baby in his care. He approached the living room, the scent of honeysuckle intensifying, and with it came an odd sensation of dread. What was it about this smell that was so unsettling…?

He entered the dim living room, illuminated by dozens of candles. _At least that explains the smell_. He took a seat on the couch, until a voice caused him to whip his head around.

'Prussia?' China stood with a match in hand, having just lit a candle. 'What are you doing here?' His eyes looked at Prussia with genuine curiosity, no embarrassment or remorse whatsoever.

'I should be asking you the same.' Prussia stood up from his seat. 'Here to collect another little present for Russia? An Englishman this time around, perhaps?'

' _Aiyah_ … it's not like that.' China picked up a candle and lit it, setting it down on the fireplace mantel, carrying the conversation with such nonchalance it almost infuriated Prussia. 'I'm just here to help England relax a little. In China, we call this _fāngxiāng liáof_ _ǎ._ _'_ He looked to Prussia, as if expecting an appreciative 'ah' or 'what is that?' When he received none other than a stony glare, he continued. 'It's aromatherapy.'

'What did you do to Fritz?'

'Hm?' China looked up, caught off guard by the sudden change in subject. 'Who's Fritz?'

'My dog. The Pomeranian.' Prussia stepped closer to China. 'He was with me at your house. It was the last time I saw him. Where is he?'

'Ah, yes, the pomeranian!' China's face lit up as he remembered. 'Yeah… he ran off somewhere after I started dragging your body out of the house. But I don't know where he went.' He said this so lightly, as if he had merely described washing his laundry.

'And I'm supposed to believe that?!' Prussia snapped.

China raised an eyebrow. 'What would I do with a Pomeranian?' His brown eyes softened. 'I only wanted to use you as a way to get closer to Russia again… That dog was of no importance to me.' He paused, as if remembering something unpleasant. 'I'm sorry about your dog, but I don't know where he is.'

China moved on to the next candle, and the next, the silence only broken by the muffled sound of America gurgling in the next room, the crying having thankfully subsided. Prussia took his seat again. Curious, he turned towards China.

'Did it work in the end?' He asked. 'Did you regain his trust?'

China chuckled softly, although there was no light-heartedness in it. 'No.' He shook the match, the small flame extinguishing into a wispy stream of smoke. 'Even if you hadn't escaped… I think he would have pushed me away anyway. I'm of no real use to him.' China slumped onto the couch beside Prussia, humming wistfully. ' _Aiyah_ … not much has changed since then. I was silly to think I could change that.'

Prussia looked at China's pensive brown eyes gazing somewhere far, far away, and he couldn't help but see a bit of himself in China – strange as it may seem. Although he still felt weird for doing this, he pat China's shoulder reassuringly.

'Hey… I know you kidnapped me and probably ate my dog.' He started to say, and was met with an irritated glare, his attempt at the joke perhaps not tactful enough. 'But if you ever want someone to hang out with-'

China scoffed, his posture stiffening immediately. 'I don't need your pity friendship! _Aiyah_ , I can take care of myself, thank you!' He got up and brushed himself off, as if embarrassed by the conversation that had taken place.

'Okay, but if ever need a friend… I'm the most awesome one you could have.'

'I will not put up with this! I am merely here to conduct business, nothing more! So if you'll excuse me, _zai jian_ to you!' China marched out, a flustered look on his face. On the way out, he bumped into England, who had returned with a changed shirt.

'Ah, China. You're finished already?'

'That will be ¥380.' China said bluntly.

'Oh…um, how much is that in-'

'£39.31.'

'Right.' England nodded as he fumbled for his wallet, glancing at Prussia accusingly for the uncomfortable atmosphere that hung in the air. 'Here you go.' He handed China the money, China eagerly showing himself out and slamming the front door closed behind him.

'What the devil was all that about?' England sat himself on the couch across from Prussia, leaning back into the seat with an exasperated sigh, inhaling the scented room. 'Oh, I'm terribly sorry.' He shot back up, although he did it with such tired effort that Prussia almost felt bad for him. 'You must have come here for something. Is there something you need from me or…?'

'Actually I'm looking for Fritz.' England looked at him questioningly. 'My dog.' Prussia added. 'You know, the one that talks.'

England's tired and weary eyes suddenly lit up, as if having remembered something. 'Yes, of course, the Pomeranian!'

'You've seen him? Since I left here, I mean.' Prussia leant forward in his seat, sensing a hopeful promise in England's reaction.

'Oh, uh…' England rubbed his forehead, hesitating. 'N-No, not really… I mean… well, no, I _have_. But…' England paused, deliberating his choice of words. 'Prussia, there's something important you should know about...um…'

'Fritz?'

'Yes, Fritz. You see…' England trailed off, his eyes gazing at the stairwell in the hallway for a long, dragged out moment. 'You know what,' He snapped his head to Prussia. 'You just wait here. I'll only be a moment.' With this said, England swiftly left the room, any trace of fatigue quickly dissipating – if only for a moment.

Prussia waited in the living room, peering into the hallway where he had watched England descend into the basement. It was a good five minutes of nervous tapping and fidgeting until he heard the sound of the large mahogany door in the basement groan as it opened, England hopping up the stairs shortly after. He entered the living room, a white Pomeranian in his arms.

Prussia jumped up from his seat and hurried to the dog. 'Fritz!' He took hold of the Pomeranian and smothered him in kisses. 'My sweet little Fritz is okay!' He didn't give much notice to England's amused smile, nuzzling the Pomeranian and almost wanting to cry from relief. 'Look at you!' He cooed. ' _Mein zwergspitz!_ Not a single scratch on you! Where have you been?! It's so good to have you back…'

He lifted his face to look at England. 'Where did you find him? I looked everywhere…'

'For a couple days I've been hearing scratching noises in the basement – I always thought it was perhaps a rat infestation. I honestly did not expect to find Fritz in there – curled up in my little armchair in there, too!' England chuckled. 'Really, it was just a gamble, looking for him down here.'

'Huh…' Prussia pet Fritz thoughtfully, not entirely buying England's (likely fabricated) story. _But why would he lie?_ Prussia thought. He quickly decided that it didn't really matter– as long as he had his little Fritz back. 'Well, anyway. _Danke sehr.'_ Prussia made his way to the front door with Fritz in his arms.

'It's nothing.' England smiled politely. 'Just keep yourselves out of trouble from now on.'

'Ha! We can try…' Prussia ruffled the Pomeranian's fluffy head. 'Isn't that right, Fritzy?' He hummed as he made his way down the porch steps, the afternoon sun starting to dip into the horizon. The door shut behind him, and the sound of America yet again wailing for attention echoed in the house, followed by a loud, tired groan. Prussia couldn't help but chuckle. The foolish Englishman – sweet as he was - thought he could relive his days as America's guardian with an almost blind insistence. Prussia sighed on England's behalf and smiled at little Fritz.

 _He'll figure it out eventually._

* * *

'Dear Prussia…' He began to read, glancing at Hungary questioningly before continuing. 'You're probably wondering where I am now, where I ran off to, why I left you in the first place – but I'm afraid these questions won't be answered today. I wish I had stuck around long enough to say goodbye, but I guess this letter will have to do.'

Prussia set the letter down and looked at Hungary once again, who had been seated on the garden bench beside him, peering over to look at the letter with wide, curious eyes. 'What is this?' He asked her.

'I don't know, but keep reading!' Hungary lifted Prussia's hand so they could read the rest of it. Prussia sighed, thinking this was perhaps an elaborate trick on Hungary's part. Not that she was the kind to do such things… but lately Prussia had been making unexpected visits through her balcony window. Prussia thought it would be fairytale-like and charming, but Hungary didn't exactly see it that way. He wouldn't be surprised if this was her way of getting back at him in some odd way. Gone were the days of straightforward punishment by a frying pan to the head.

'You should know that you were an affectionate and caring master,' Prussia frowned as he read this – this was indeed a very strange joke. 'I enjoyed being by your side over the past few days. I had never before felt so loved. Perhaps one day, we can take over the world together. We make a formidable pair… What the hell does that say?' Prussia pointed to a line of foreign handwriting, followed by a name he had not expected to find.

'Fritz?' Prussia furrowed his brows, even more confused by the fact that the name had been written in quotations, as if it were some code name or a joke. He looked over to his dog, who sat patiently on the grass, looking as innocent as ever. Although Fritz hadn't spoken a word since he got back, Prussia had to wonder if perhaps writing strange letters was yet another hidden skill his dog possessed.

 _What am I thinking, that's ridiculous! I mean, look at his little paws… so cute and tiny! There's just no way…_

Surely it was a joke of some kind.

Prussia looked to Hungary. 'And you're telling me that Lithuania gave you this letter to pass on to me?'

Hungary nodded. 'But he wouldn't tell me who it's from when I asked.'

Prussia gave her a long hard look before speaking again. 'So you didn't write this letter?'

'No! Of course not, _hülye!_ ' Hungary grabbed the letter and inspected it closely. 'Why would I write something like this? Besides, that writing at the bottom – it looks Russian.'

' _Ja_ , Russia would totally write me a sappy letter so he can mess with my head!' Prussia said dryly. 'Because he's not busy, you know, torturing people and spying on America when he gets the chance.'

'I told you I didn't write it!' Hungary shoved him playfully, a smile breaking out on her face.

'Uhuh. I totally believe you.' Prussia pushed back. 'Nice try, anyway. It takes more than a letter to mess with awesome me!'

'Why don't you believe me?' Hungary whined, her eyes glimmering in the sunlight. But Prussia did believe her. He knew she was being honest, even as she giggled and chuckled in a way that might have proven her guilty. He even knew that whoever wrote this wasn't joking either – just a feeling he had. But rather than confront this, rather than face the possibility that someone out there had felt lonely as he once did, was something he wasn't quite ready to admit. Because even the strongest, most intimidating of men could fall into the snare of _einsamkeit_ – and that was a scary thought.

'You okay there?' Hungary placed her hand gently on his shoulder.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Prussia turned to her and nodded. 'I'm fine.'

'It's funny – that bird always seems to get very quiet when you're thinking.'

'What bird?' Prussia asked, turning his head from side to side, hearing a chirp as he did so. What in Old Fritz's name was up with this bird? When had it appeared? Why was it following him around? Didn't Fritz eat it, and if so, does that mean this bird somehow resurrected itself? Or maybe it's a family of birds-

'Prussia, are you listening?' Hungary leaned her head closer, peering into his eyes as if she could somehow glean the contents of his thoughts this way. 'Honestly I don't know how you get distracted so easily-'

'What'd you say we go hunting today?' Prussia burst out, the brilliant idea having suddenly appeared to him.

'Hunting?' Her tone was doubtful, but the gleam in her eyes betrayed excitement.

' _Ja._ Hunting. _'_

'I don't know…'

'Hmm?' Prussia leaned towards her, their shoulders bumping against each other. 'What'd you say?' He gazed straight into her eyes with all the charm he could muster.

'I'm not sure, I have a lot of work to do today and – Will you cut that out?' Hungary snapped, leaning away from him. 'What's with that look?! It's creepy!'

'You know you want to…' Prussia continued, red eyed gaze on full intensity. Perhaps it wasn't as charming as he had intended it to be… but if it worked all the same then it would have to do. 'Come on, Hungary.' He whispered. 'Do it. Do it. Do it- ' He started to chant.

'Okay! Okay! Fine!' Hungary scowled, although Prussia had noticed the smile that was threatening to break her mask. 'But only because you're so insistent. Hunting's an old and inhumane thing to do anyway, so I don't see why you're so –'

She was cut off by Prussia's lips. She leant into the kiss, her irritation quickly dissipating. It was strange for her – one moment frustrated and annoyed with this man, the next melting in his arms like a swooning damsel in distress. She wasn't quite sure if she liked this or not, being in love with an idiot like Prussia. All she knew was that she felt like herself around him, and perhaps that's what mattered most.

She pulled back, a sudden thought on the tip of her tongue. 'It's because you want to see me in trousers, isn't it?' Hungary said, a serious expression on her face.

' _Nein!_ ' Prussia said with child-like emphasis. 'I suggested hunting because it's awesome and us hunting together - that's awesome too!'

Hungary chuckled, possibly amused by his juvenile assertion. 'Okay then. Hunting it is.'

Fritz whined, perhaps feeling a little left out, and scratched at Prussia's boots.

'You can come too, Fritzy!' Prussia picked him up and set him on his lap. 'Who knows what beasts we'll slay with our awesome magnificence!'

Fritz yapped in excitement, and Prussia couldn't help but feel that he had been waiting so long for this moment – or rather, this feeling. His chest felt light, his laughter was not forced, and for the first time in a long time, he could share his happiness with someone else. He was no longer alone, or self-pitying.

'Come on, let's go!' Hungary pulled him by the hand, her expression eager and animated in a way that made Prussia smile.

It was like the world had blossomed anew for Prussia, with little Fritz and Hungary by his side for the rest of their awesomely awesome adventure.

 **THE END**

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**...And that is the end of Prussia's story - technically. There is still one more chapter left, however this one will be from a different POV and will basically wrap up a few last things in this story and offer some much needed explanations about Fritz. So hang on until then!**

 **Also, isn't China a sweetheart? He may or may not have ripped off England - I had some difficulty converting pounds into chinese yuan, so if the numbers look off... Just pretend its intentional and China's just being sneaky 'kay? :P**


	12. Hope Springs Eternal

**Last chapter! Also, just to clarify, this chapter takes place just after England 'finds' Fritz and gives him back to Prussia.  
** **Enjoy!**

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'He'll figure it out eventually…' England groaned as he slid down with his back to the door, burying his face into his hands. Just how reckless and stupid had he been? Somehow sympathy had gotten the better of him, and here he was, having set off a ticking time bomb. _It won't be long before he realizes…or will he?_ England couldn't say for certain, but he was sure it was a stupid thing to do anyway, handing the Pomeranian over to him.

America's piercing cry made England wince, a recurring headache swiftly returning with a sharp stab. _God almighty, why does he have to be so loud?!_

With whatever little willpower that had remained, England got up and walked into America's room, thinking he probably needed another diaper change or - _god forbid -_ more food. He approached the cot and picked up America, the wailing subsiding as he did so.

'What's wrong?' England rocked the small child in his arms, feeling all of his worries and frustrations melting away at the sight of America's wide blue eyes, looking at him in an oh so beautiful way.

 _It's been forever since he's looked at me like that…_ England thought, and held America closer. It seemed America had only needed his presence, and this made England feel elation in his heart. He smiled, and kissed the child's forehead gently.

'England…?' America sniffled.

'Hm?' England hummed.

'I dreamt that you were angry at me. It was raining so much, and you tried to hurt me, but I didn't know what I did wrong…'

England felt an all too familiar ache in his chest, and despite the guilt that had begun to sprout in it, he smoothed out America's hair reassuringly and crooned. 'It's only a bad dream, America. I'm not angry at you. I was never angry at you. There's nothing to worry about.' He said softly, more so to his own comfort than anyone else's.

But there was much to worry about, he thought with a sinking feeling. They would only end up hurting each other again. Eventually, one day, America would leave him – no matter how strong England was, or how loving he was to America. England's foolish righteousness and America's naïve penchant for freedom and independence – doing things his own way – made sure that history would repeat itself. It was inevitable, and England was a fool to think he could reset the clock and somehow erase all that had happened. History was cruel like that.

 _England, you dummy._

'I'm so sorry, America.' He buried his face into the child's soft blonde hair, trying to relish the feeling, but only thinking about how this was perhaps the last time he would ever do this.

'For what?'

'Nothing.' England pulled back, looking into sky blue eyes. 'Just know that I care very much for you.' He bit his trembling lip, hoping he could make it to the end of this sentence without tears spilling. 'Now I won't say it very often… but I love you.'

America's brows turned up in concern, still too young to quite understand the pained expression on his guardian's face. 'You're not leaving me, are you?'

'No, of course not.' England smiled weakly, his eyes watery. 'Sleep now, dear.' He brushed the hair off of America's forehead gently. ' _Dormiunt pacifice.'_ He murmured, the spell quickly taking effect as the child's head fell limply against his chest.

He carried America with him as he descended into the basement, lighting up the candles in the room with a flick of the wrist. Under normal circumstances, he would have deemed magic unnecessary for such mundane tasks, but with only one hand free and a very important conversation to have, he couldn't care less. He pushed the armchair towards the front of the mirror. It was time for another chat with Oliver. This time, it would be a long one.

He yanked off the sheet from the mirror, chanting the spell he had used so many times before to summon him. He sat back into the armchair, America asleep in his lap. He waited.

'So nice to see you again, Arthur.' His 'reflection' spoke, and although he _looked_ incredibly similar, in truth he was anything but. He sat in an armchair, hands in his lap just as England had them, although there was no America in the reflection. His eyes were wild – the eyes of a madman, perhaps too alert for his own good. His purple sweater vest and garish teal bowtie, complemented by a wide grin, made him look all the more unsettling. 'It seems like lately you've been wanting to see an awful lot of me.'

'Tell me, Oliver…' England began, skipping the formality of a greeting. 'Aside from your little stunt with the spell on America, what else have you been up to?'

'Up to? You say it like I've done something terribly naughty!' A chuckle emanated from the mirror, disconcerting as it always was. 'I think I would have told you if I did…'

'As far as I know, Oliver, dogs don't normally talk unless there's magic involved.' England glared accusingly at his reflection. 'I highly doubt Norway or Romania have a penchant for stirring up trouble with magic, which just leaves the two of us. And I think you and I both know who's guilty here.'

Oliver stayed silent for a moment, a grin still plastered on his face. 'You know what'd be really nice?' His voice burst out. 'A nice, hot cuppa to go with this lovely chat! Would you like some?' He made as if to get up from the chair.

England tilted his head, glaring irritably.

'Oh, alright! Don't be such a sourpuss, Arthur, darling!' Oliver sat back and pouted. 'I'll play along with your little game.'

'This isn't a game.'

Oliver crossed his legs and leant forward, chin propped up on one hand. 'Everything's a game, Arthur. Just like the one I set off this week – a rather fun one this time!' He sighed. 'Mirrors, mirrors everywhere – and each one of them a little window to watch the sad little lives of others… That Prussia dear was quite the melancholic one! Charming, really. Oh, do you really want to hear it? How I started this little game?' He bounced his legs excitedly.

'Do tell.' England said dryly.

'Marvelous! Now where do I begin…?' Oliver mused, a crooked smile on his lips. How this monster had turned out to be England's own reflection, he did not know. More accurately, he did not wish to know – and perhaps he never would.

'It all started when dear Viktor had told me of a new mirror – fancy that! – in Russia's house! All the possibilities! The fun to be had! It was too tempting, really. So I did a little bit of chit-chat here and there, and before you know it, I had him in the palm of my hand! He was a lonely darling, that Ivan. I felt a little bad for him. He told me he wanted a companion, someone who wouldn't be so afraid of him. Now, clever little me had this _all_ figured out.'

Oliver smiled self-contentedly before continuing, waiting for England's eager reaction. 'Well don't you want to hear more? It's rather exciting!'

'Let me guess…' England rubbed his forehead tiredly. 'You turned Russia into a Pomeranian.'

'Exactly! And off he went, making new friends or whatnot. Wreaking havoc. Of course the deal was only for a little while – magic doesn't last forever, you know...' Oliver sighed disappointedly. 'It was fun while it lasted, I suppose. In the end Russia's cronies destroyed the other mirror – why that was, I will never know. Such a shame…'

'Frankly, Oliver, I'm surprised that's all you've done.'

'What did you expect me to do? Bake people into cupcakes in my free time? Butcher me some nice, tasty mince meat pies?' Oliver said in a (hopefully) jokingly manner, cackling loudly. 'I got bored of that a long time ago…' He muttered under his breath. England pretended not to hear.

'You know…' England started to confess, finding that often times it was only Oliver he could talk to about such things – as much as he dreaded whatever little interaction they had. 'I gave Prussia his dog back. In a sense.'

'And how's that?'

'An old summoning spell. It's a real dog I gave him. Identical to his Fritz. But obviously not the same dog Prussia knew.'

'Now why did you do that?' Oliver smiled slyly, although he very well knew the answer. He perhaps knew England better than anyone else. Better than even England himself.

England sighed, caressing America's hair in his lap. 'I guess I just felt bad for the fellow. Couldn't let him leave with that sad look on his face. But I suppose he'll catch on eventually…'

'Probably.' Oliver spoke thoughtfully, his unsettling eyes drifting towards America. He grinned. 'He looks an awful lot like-'

'He is.'

'And you still haven't turned him back? My, my…' Oliver feigned disapproval, waving his index finger. 'I presume it's been nice for you to have him as a child again? I remember when my Allan was little, so sweet… Still an annoying brat, though.'

'Yes, well, it hasn't exactly been smooth sailing.' England said as he slowly exhaled. 'Taking care of him is a lot harder than I remember. And I always think… how long? How long until he leaves me again? Some things are just the way they're meant to be, I suppose. America being… _America_ is just one of them.'

Oliver nodded, his expression, for once, serious and solemn. He understood.

America began to stir in England's lap. 'I think it's time.' England said, getting up from the chair with America in his arms. 'I'll…see you later, I guess.' He threw the sheet over the mirror, hearing a muffled goodbye as he did so.

England pushed the chair back into its place, pulling out a blanket from one of the trunks littered nearby. It was an old quilt he had made for America, ages ago. It was incomplete, having stopped working on it since that awful day in the rain. And so, he never had the heart to finish it. He wrapped little America in it and laid him gently onto the floor, not before pressing one final kiss on his forehead.

He took a step back, and chanted. ' _Positus fuit in forma rediré. Nemo memoriam eaque militia manere._ _Obsecro vos!'_ A green orb flew from his hand, darting towards America. A flash of light made England squint a little as he waited for the spell's completion. When the light faded away and the uplifted dust of the basement settled, England moved forward and knelt towards a grown up America – still wrapped in the quilt and unconscious.

'America? America, wake up!' He gently shook the other blonde.

'Mm…? Britain, what…' America's eyes fluttered open. 'Where…' He propped himself up, looking groggily around at the strange basement, at England's concerned expression, and then at the blanket wrapped around him.

'Aw… dude.' America groaned. 'Did I get piss drunk again?'

England chuckled, partly because he was relieved that the spell had worked, and partly because he had missed this side of America – as annoying as it still was.

'Something like that.' England answered ambiguously.

'Huh?' America looked at him with confused blue eyes – round and innocent as they were only a few hours ago. It only made England's chuckle even more. 'What're you laughing at? I did something really stupid, didn't I?' He whined.

'That, America, is our little secret.'

'But I don't even know what it is!'

'Exactly.' England helped America up, wrapping the quilt around him a little more tightly and hoping America wouldn't think too much of this gesture. 'So consider it the best kept secret in the world.'

'You really are going senile, old man.' America said as the two made their way up the stairs.

'Tch! Stop calling me that!' England's shoulders tensed, perhaps regretting using the spell for a fleeting moment.

'Relax, man. It's only a joke.' America chuckled, and England couldn't help but join in. Things were as they were before, and England was glad for it. Sure, America was still an annoying idiot, and England would always miss being the one he depended on. But in many ways, things are always sunnier in hindsight, and England had realized this. Rather than wallowing in the past, it was better to try and make things right in the present.

 _Perhaps I'll finish that quilt for America._ England thought as he shut the basement door, America already making a hurried dash upstairs for some clothes, embarrassment catching up to him as his sleepiness wore off. Yes, he'd finish the quilt, and he would give it to America for his birthday.

England sighed, only this time with hope. He was loud, he was a nuisance, but he was still, at heart, his little America.

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 **And that's the end of Prussia's Awesomely Awesome Adventure! This last chapter deviated a little bit from the normal sort of narrative of previous chapters, but I just felt it was important to give dear England his happy ending too. So consider as a nice little extra OVA-ish sort of... thing. I don't know what else to call it.  
Thank you guys so so much for the reviews and sticking until the end of this story! I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I had writing it! And until the next awesome adventure, _adio!_**


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